Travel Secrets: First
by E4mj
Summary: Harry Potter is living an unhappy life at age 27. He is forced to go on an Auror raid, when the people he saves are not who he thinks. With one last thing in his life broken, he follows through on a plan for Time-travel, back to his past self. Things were not as they once seemed. Slytherin!Harry. Dumbledore and order bashing. No pairing YET. Book one. (The world belongs to Jo!)
1. Chapter 1

**ONE**

Harry Potter had never been so angry about anything in his whole, long and frustrating life. At age twenty seven, he had been forced to go on another Auror raid. You might wonder why he would be _forced_ to do a job every Auror attends at least once a week. That was because Harry Potter wasn't an Auror.

It had taken four months in the job, where he was either treated like an all knowing god of defence, or as someone everyone had the right to test at any moment (on or off the job), before he had quit. He had spent his whole life trying to prove himself and had no intention of putting up with the pleading eyes or subtle sneers every time a problem came up. Unfortunately, the wizarding world hadn't taken kindly to that, and in the middle of the night he had been captured and whisked away where he was forced to sign a legal contract stating he would always work for the ministry of magic in any capacity. He had not been best pleased, and when they had finally caught up with him (he had taken out just under thirty Aurors and was the first person to ever escape the ministry holding cells) he had already gotten himself a goblin lawyer, and had a new contract ready to sign. He had also convinced the goblins to take him on as a _friend of the goblin nation_, meaning if the ministry didn't sign the new contract, they would be breaching the 1482 Goblin treaty against goblin slavery, and would be declaring war. Minister Shacklebolt had grudgingly signed.

Unfortunately Harry couldn't get out of all of it, due to the magic binding him, and could only get them to sign to say they would only call on him under duress. The goblins and the ministry had happily debated for two days about exactly classified as duress.

But it wasn't being called out on another raid that had Harry in such a towering rage. In fact, he had actually turned around and let Aloysius Nott free from his bindings, after binding everyone else. Nott had turned to face him wand drawn, but the amount of negative magic pulsing out of Harry, practically visible in the air and rolling against his skin had Nott tremble for a moment, before turning tail and running for the floo. The others in the room weren't so lucky. A unique spell Luna had shown Harry (supposedly used for the rounding up of Teriwinkles) kept everyone else bound to the spot purely by his magical signature.

The cause of Harry's rage was about fourteen years old, and was trembling in the centre of the room, her glamour flicking in and out.

'Drop it.' Harry growled, not caring that he was scaring the magic out of a child.

'I- I-…'

'Drop it or face the consequences.' Harry liked to think that he wouldn't really hurt a child, but at that moment he just wasn't sure. The girl whimpered and the glamour dropped. She was the spitting image of Lily Evans, her green eyes looking up at Harry with fear. Harry snarled and turned to face the five other 'victims' that the Aurors had been called to rescue. There was an older child, another girl, Harry guessed about nineteen or twenty, a small baby, two parents, their heads hanging in shame, and an old man who was trying everything he knew to break Harry's spell. Harry could even feel pressure on his erected wards where a phoenix was being called. Unfortunately Harry suspected he'd learnt to ward against that from the man now trying to break it. Rage swelled up in him again and he turned his wand on the mother.

.:Revelio:. He hissed. He still rarely used parseltongue, as it reminded him too much of the past, but it tended to override most magic. He wasn't let down. The woman now standing in front of him whimpered but couldn't bring herself to look at him.

'Well, well mother, we meet at long last.' Harry growled out, causing the last of the Aurors to finally grasp what they had found. Derlling always _had_ been a bit slow.

'H- Harry, I can explain.'

'You will have to call me sir. You have no right to use my first name, and I rather suspect I will soon be changing my last, so it wouldn't do for you to get used to it.'

'Now look here son…' James Potter dropped his glamour with an angry noise and tried to defend his wife. Harry just turned to him with a sardonic look and silenced him wandlessly. James whimpered.

'Come on Dumbledore, you too. I can only imagine how you managed the Kings Cross incident, but it has been bothering me for some time, as I would probably have chosen the chamber of secrets.'

'Why the chamber, my boy?' Dumbledore had never been one to fight losing battles it seemed, as he dropped his glamour with no further argument.

'Because it was slamming a sword into the mouth of a sixty foot Basilisk that made me realise that for all the talk, I was really on my own in the wizarding world. I crossed over then, and have never had a chance to look back.'

'I see.' Dumbledore said, nodding gravely.

'Oh, and one more thing.'

'Yes?'

'The next time you call me 'my boy' or anything similar, I will eviscerate you.'

Harry silenced Dumbledore as well, mainly because he knew it would frustrate the old man. He then turned to the older girl, who was looking at him with curiosity.

'Name?'

'Daisy. I know it's not the best time, but it's nice to finally meet you.' She said in a quiet shy way.

'Hmm. Yes, well. I am going to free you to move in a moment, you will collect your baby brother and sister and floo them to St. Mungos. Your sister isn't saying anything, but I saw Nott's curse hit her early on and she must be a great deal of pain, the baby should get looked over as well.'

'And my… _our_ parents?'

'So long as they are truthful they shall come out alive. You should probably wait for them at St. Mungos.'

'No! Please, don't hurt them.' Within a moment of Harry freeing them she had run forward and thrown herself at him. He quickly disabled three pranking spells and shoved her harshly to the floor. He crossed the room in an easy stride and took the baby from Lily's arms. He gave it to the younger girl without a word, and the three children found themselves magically pushed towards the fireplace. With no other choice they called out 'St. Mungos' and disappeared in the green flames.

Harry had been holding in his anger while the children were there, but now the room grew heavy and cold, and Lily began weeping.

'Explain.' Harry spat out.

'We- we-…'

'NOW!' Harry was furious and magic cracked out across the room hitting James Potter across the chest and slicing through his shirt leaving an angry welt.

'The Dark Lord was chasing us! You could be famous. We could take on new faces, new lives. Professor Dumbledore said…'

'_Mr._ Dumbledore gave up the right for that distinction the night he faked his own death. You have approximately three minutes to explain, and then we will never see each other again, I hope you feel this is enough time to atone for your actions.'

'Three minutes but…'

Something in Harry's gaze must have shown his determination, because Lily Potter bit back her tears and talked very fast.

'It was for your safety. Even when the world thought the Dark Lord dead we knew otherwise, we saw his spirit leave and knew he would come for you again. We knew he would be after you, and that he would want us dead. We would have been used as tools of manipulation against you. Taken as hostages forcing you to do horrible things. You needed to not have even the slightest liking for those raising you. Do you think it was easy giving up my only son?'

'I think…' Harry took a deep breath and turned to face Dumbledore. 'I think that our decisions make us who we are, and I think that we are often placed in situations where we have to chose between what is right, and what is easy.'

'Are you in a situation like that now? I would like to get to know my son.' James Potter sounded hopeful. Harry stared at him for a long moment, envisioning all the questions he wanted to ask, all the things he wanted to know about his parents. What was their favorite colour, their favorite movie, who inspired them, and which foods they hated? All of the little things that people didn't or couldn't tell him. For a long moment everyone in the room held their breath, every Auror had remained silent, despite the giant discovery they had stumbled across.

'No.' Harry breathed out a long sigh. 'No, now I am in yet another _crazy_ situation. It is one of many that I have been placed in, in my life, and I am sure there will be many more, however this will not be one where I have to choose. This situation is not at all easy, and not at all right, but my decision is both.' Harry ran his eyes over both parents greedily, soaking up every small detail, then, with a heavy sigh, he turned and walked away.

'Don't you want to ask Pro-… Mr. Dumbledore anything?' Umbridge (her niece, not the toad) asked quietly.

Harry paused, but did not turn around. 'There is nothing that man could say that would make it worth hearing.' He paused again, then just for spite added, 'But by the way old fool, I released the phoenix ward ten minutes ago, Fawkes just won't come to you and I doubt he ever will again.' And with that Harry Potter disappeared into the night with a small pop.

Harry first apperated to the spot he and Hermione had been captured by the snatchers during the war. The tent was still there, and he and Hermione came here occasionally when their lives got to be too much. They had started coming here again after Ron died. It had been a freak Quidditch accident, which the Weasleys had blamed Hermione for despite her being on the other side of the globe on conference. She had port-keyed back a mess. Harry had acted as a barrier between her and the Weasleys for as long as possible, but in the end he had snapped, Hermione had snapped, Molly had yelled, Ginny had slapped him, and Harry had apperated them both out of there to the first place that came to mind. They had dueled each other for almost an hour before they ended up kissing, then having sex. He had felt terribly guilty for weeks until Hermione finally snapped and informed him of the two-foot-long-scroll of all the names of people Ginny had slept with. They hadn't spoken of it since, but Harry still came here when things got too stressful, and he now had several wards up to stop anyone else from disturbing him. Now, he simply started cursing anything in sight. He lasted almost four hours before collapsing on the ground and crying himself to sleep.

Harry didn't know how long he'd slept, but it was evening when he woke up and he had come to terms with his world being turned on end as much as possible, and had a clear plan. He stepped into the tent and leaned himself up as best he could. He collected all of his most treasured things and placed them into his bottomless satchel, another thing left over from the war. With one last sigh he looked around and folded down the tent with a wave of his wand, packaging it tightly before wrapping it and labeling it to be posted to Australia. Ha then apperated to the edge of the forest, walking calmly to the nearest muggle postbox and pushing it in. Hermione had moved back in with her parents, who it turned out were quite happy in Australia, and was now a world-leading psychologist for all magical people and sentient beings. She had got her muggle degree in one and a half years and had her own little house-elf retreat. She had given up on the idea of freeing them, and had simply saved, and bought, as many as possible to ensure they lived happy lives. They had never slept together again. However they sent letters twice a month and visited twice a year. Harry was sure she would know what receiving the tent meant.

Already feeling lighter, Harry apperated to the middle of Black forest before apperating again to near Ottery Street Catchpole, thus avoiding the wards, then walking calmly inside to say goodbye to one more person.

'You're leaving.'

Harry looked up, and saw tears running down her face.

'You could come with me.'

'If I did, you would leave all of your memories behind, and it would all be for nothing.'

'I would do it anyway if you would come.'

'But I wouldn't make you live that life again.'

Tears were streaming down both their faces now, and Harry stepped forward and swept Luna into a crushing embrace.

'I won't go then.'

'You have to. I want you to… even when I don't.'

'I love you beyond the moon and back.'

'That's not very much, I'm not that far away.' Luna replied with her usual taunt.

'I would give you anything.'

'Even a crumple-horned snorkack?'

'Especially a crumple-horned snorkack'

'Well okay then.'

Luna stepped onto tip-toes and pressed her lips against his forehead as her hand pressed a small purse into his hand. 'Don't forget me.'

'Impossible!'

'I love you.'

It was small and quiet, and the first time she had admitted it out loud, even after six years, and Harry had hoped she wouldn't have tears in her voice at the time, but it still meant the world.

'I love you with all my heart and being my sweetest moonchild.' Harry too was crying, but with resolution turned and strode out towards the stone circle at the edge of the Rookery's fields. He didn't have the heart to turn back and watch Luna crying on the doorstep, but he knew she was there.

* * *

Okay, so I know I've dropped more than a few bombs in this first chapter, but I wanted these big ones out of the way before he goes back, and we will get more (gradual) information about his life post DH throughout. Btw: JS, AS, and LL Potter weren't ever born so don't get all antsy as this is a fanfiction, and not canon, even if it is canon up until the end of school the first time around.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

Harry Potter awoke from a strange dream and turned over in his cot trying to work it out. He had been dreaming of a green light and a flying motorcycle. He sighed and sat up…

Banging his head on the roof of the cupboard in the process. His eyes flew open revealing nothing in the dark, except that he was back in his cupboard. His Aunts shrill voice demanding he get up slowly sunk through his deep thought and he automatically made his way out into the kitchen and began making breakfast. It wasn't until he was almost done that he realised he was making Eggs Blackstone, and that Petunia was eyeing his newfound culinary skills with worry in her gaze. It was a moment longer until he realised she thought it was magic and he managed to enjoy his toast immensely, despite having to watch the Dursleys eat something much nicer, safe in the knowledge that Vernon and Petunia were worried that they were being poisoned or tainted or something equally as _unnatural_. Harry had always enjoyed cooking, and one of the first things he did as an adult was to take cooking lessons, something which Rita Skeeter and the readers of the daily prophet were obsessed with. With an amused snort he realised it was magic, just not in the way they were worried about. Time-travel isn't exactly catching, but then… neither was magic.

While the older Dursleys ate their breakfast warily Harry sat and contemplated where arriving in this time left him. Luna and Daphne had calculated (Daphne unknowingly thinking it was only theoretical) that Harry would arrive between fifteen and thirty years in the past. If it had been more than twenty seven Harry didn't even want to contemplate the possible consequences, however he had already been considering going, as his life had been falling apart piece by piece, and his parents betrayal had been the last straw. Despite their teary goodbye, Luna had been pushing Harry to go, as there were so many people to save. That brought Harry to his biggest concern. He had never mentioned it to Luna, but he knew very well who his first target would be. Harry tuned back in to the Dursleys, only to discover that Dudley was chucking a tantrum because Harry would be going on his birthday outing to the zoo. As they traveled in the car Harry put up with Dudley and Piers' pinches and prods safe in the knowledge that if everything else changed, he would at least be setting a giant boa-constrictor on them before the day was out.

It took Harry nearly three hours before he managed to pick-pocket (mundungus had been useful for _something_ at least) some paper, a pen, and an envelope with stamp from the crowds at the zoo. The last had been the biggest trouble, but Harry used a slight compulsion on a child, who had talked his parents into buying him a booklet full of animal themed stamps before Harry filched them away. He soon had sent a small note, and wondered idly what Serena Lovegood would make of getting a letter from 'an unknown seer', and could only hope she was as superstitious and as trusting in signs as Luna had said, and would ward her potions lab according to a possibility just in case.

In the late afternoon, sucking on his double chocolate ice-cream (because Harry knew he was already going to be punished at home, and had jumped in with the outrageous order as soon as the lady asked, making Petunia have to buy it to save face) Harry followed the Dursleys into the reptile house with a Cheshire smile on his face. He wasted no time and walked ahead to the boa-constrictor's tank.

.:Hello:.

The snake sat up in shock.

.:Hello? How do you speak to me?:.

.:It is a magical gift:.

.:Oh? I am magical also:.

It was Harry's turn to blink in surprise, but Piers was coming closer, so Harry had little time to think .:Do you see the fat boy in the yellow, and his friend in the red?:.

.:Yes:.

.:I would like you to attack them for me:.

.:I am trapped in this tank:. Harry had never heard emotion in a snake before, but it definitely seemed sad.

.:I am going to set you free:.

.:And what am I expected to give in return:. The snake said suspiciously.

.:Nothing, although I would prefer if you could not permanently hurt the two boys when you attack them. Just a scare is enough:.

The snake eyed him warily, and hissed threateningly as Dudley came over and rapped noisily on the glass. With a small nod, and a bout of concentration, Harry managed to get the glass to disappear, causing Piers to jump back in shock, and Dudley, who had been leaning on it, to fall through into the tank. The boa constrictor snapped happily at Dudley, then slid across the room backing Piers into a corner, before hissing at him then turning back to Harry. Piers squealed then ran, leaving Harry and the snake. Dudley had passed out.

Harry almost missed what the snake said the first time as he was laughing so hard.

.:What!?:.

.:I said I am coming with you. Quick, pull up your shirt and I will wrap around your middle until we get out of here:.

.:What?:. Harry repeated blankly. This had not been part of his plan at all, however the snake was already sliding onto him and nosing at the bottom of his shirt impatiently. Without thinking Harry lifted it up enough and it slid in and wrapped itself three times around his middle. Harry soon had to cast a protection ward around it as Uncle Vernon dragged him out and away by the collar of his shirt and left Petunia crying trying to get to Dudley. One of the more amusing effects of Harry doing wandless magic, rather than accidental, was that he had to make a conscious effort to hold the magic, and without it, the glass had solidified again and become visible, leaving Dudley trapped inside the case. Petunia was an odd shade of blue-white, and the zoo keeper was imagining Dudley to have super powers. Despite having a new unexpected friend, and expecting to spend the next few weeks in a small confined space, Harry had had an excellent day. He also had plenty of food rations inside his pouch back in the cupboard (he wasn't stupid enough to take it with him because Dudley would steal it). He even managed to keep a straight face when asking Uncle Vernon if Dudley was magic now that he could walk through glass. He got a broken nose for it, but a few goes at it and he managed a wandless episky and that was fixed and he settled in to a dark few weeks alone in the cupboard.

Of course he wasn't alone. He had forgotten the snake, however almost as soon as the cupboard door shut his new friend made his presence known.

.:Where are we? Why is it dark:. It hissed.

.:I'm afraid this is my home. I'm sorry, but I didn't get a chance to tell you before you climbed on. I will be in here for a few weeks, and I only have cooked meat. The occasional mouse comes through, but that is all:.

.:That is okay, I was fed just two days ago, quite a large meal that will last me a few weeks. This is an odd hole for a human. Very dark:.

.:Sorry:.

.:Stupid human. I like it:.

And that got them off to their new relationship. The snake didn't have a name, but Harry soon named him Apophis, or Apep for short, after the Egyptian god. Harry had been unsure, but Apep said he didn't mind being named for something dark, as snakes were considered dark creatures, and that .:even if I do turn evil, I will still be _your_ evil, so only you can tell me how much that is:. So Apep it was, and the two spent the following weeks getting to know each other and commiserating over living lives in captivity. Harry spoke a great deal more, admitting he actually had twenty-seven years, for all his ten year old body looked. By the time Harry was allowed back out of the cupboard the summer holidays had started, and Harry let Apep out into the garden.

Harry and Luna had discussed the possibility of Harry ending up back with the Dursleys, and had come to the conclusion that if Harry wanted to move out of his cupboard, he would have to let events pass the same as the first time, in that he would have to wait for Hagrid to get his letter. Apep reluctantly agreed, however from the day it came onwards he spent his time curled around Harry's middle, and moved back into the cupboard after eating one of Mrs. Figgs cats to hold him over for the following weeks. Surprisingly this time it took until the third lot of letters arrived for Harry to be moved upstairs, and Harry could only assume that the Dursleys had been more upset by having to call in a glass cutter to get Dudley out of a cage than he had guessed.

The only other difference to Harry's original timeline, was that when he noticed Mrs. Figg out for a brisk walk one morning when he was being forced to prune the roses with no gloves, Harry called her over and told her bluntly a few truths about his life at the Dursleys. She hadn't looked shocked about any of the things, and Harry sadly put her in the Dumbledore category. He had been hoping that she, as a squib with little in the way of rights, had actually been worried and Dumbledore just doing nothing, however it looked as if that weren't the case. Harry, ignored everything after that and soon found himself counting down the minutes until midnight curled into a small ball under a blanket in the hut on the sea.

BOOM.

Dudley shot bolt upright. 'Where's the canon?'

Vernon came crashing into the room holding the rifle. Harry paid more attention to this, this time around, wondering how on earth Vernon got a rifle. Before Harry could ponder this out properly Hagrid had come forcefully into the room and said rifle was being bent into a pretzel. Harry had missed the whole introductions part and wasn't sure if Hagrid had introduced himself or not, however he noted that the fire had been started and moved closer as Apep hadn't been appreciative of the cold.

'Anyway – Harry,' Hagrid said, turning away from Vernon, who was making sounds like a stepped-on mouse, 'a very happy birthday to yeh. Got sommat fer yeh here – I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste alright'

Harry's fingers trembled as he opened this box for the second time. In the original time-line Hagrid had earned a lot of loyalty from Harry from this small act. It was the first time Harry had ever gotten a real birthday cake. This time around he had hundreds of memories brought back to him and he could only hope Hagrid turned out to be in the dark of the whole conspiracy. He was relatively sure the friendly giant was, as Hagrid couldn't keep a secret to save his life, and Harry doubted he would have approved of it, for all his loyalty towards Dumbledore. After all, he'd shown Harry the dragons. Harry shook off his wondering and turned to face Hagrid.

'Thanks. Who are you?' Harry was quite happy to mostly follow the old timeline for now, but he wouldn't be as rude.

'True, I haven't properly introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of the keys and grounds at Hogwarts.' His hand shook Harry's whole arm. Harry was finding the whole situation much more enjoyable, having enough understanding of the situation to enjoy watching petunia and Vernon go different shades of colours in anger, and Dudley completely freaking out, yet still eyeing the cake. Harry frowned. Dudley had contacted Harry on his twenty fourth birthday, wanting a happy day and asking to meet up. They weren't friends exactly, but they got together on boxing day for a meal, and Harry was godfather to Dudley's little girl Rose.

'What's Hogwarts?'

Harry looked up at Hagrid as the giant swelled up and explained about Harry's parents and the school, or as much as he could before Vernon interrupted.

'He'll not be going.' Surprisingly Petunia spoke up, at the same time Hagrid said 'Yer a wizard Harry.' It took a belated moment of surprise before Harry remembered to act like he was finding this out for the first time.

'I'm a what?'

'Stop. Stop right there.' Vernon interrupted as Hagrid opened his mouth. 'We swore when we took him we'd squash it out of him.'

'Yer can't squish the magic outta him, and Harry's name s'been down on the rolls since before he was born. Yer a wizard, Harry. And a thumpin' good'un I'd guess. Once you've been trained up a bit.' And before anyone could protest Harry was handed his letter. As he took it Harry felt a small wave of magic roll over him and felt Apep tighten around his stomach slightly. Harry frowned. Fortunately while he was searching his mental-scape for new intrusions he just appeared to be reading. He soon realised it was just the natural Hogwarts magic telling the wards that a child had received her letter.

One of the most interesting things Harry had studied since finishing school was Hogwarts, he'd spent several months on it when Bill Weasley had been asked to update the wards and had taken the opportunity to give Harry a crash course in ward-repair. The letters were written by the castle's magic itself, with McGonagall writing an overall draft and signing each. The castle wrote the address, however McGonagall signed after this and had to have known where Harry's first envelope was addressed. The second one wasn't very subtle either with 'the smallest bedroom'. Most people knew Hogwarts was a little bit sentient, however the more Harry had learnt the more he realised she was a little sarcastic at times too, and certainly knew when she was being ignored.

'What does it mean to send a return by owl?' Harry eventually asked after realizing Hagrid was waiting on a response.

'Galloping Gargons, that reminds me.' Hagrid said, pulling out a scroll, quill, and to Harry's distress a small owl and penning a note to Dumbledore.

'Was the owl okay in your pocket?'

'What? Oh, yeh, it's bigger in the inside and she has a cage.'

'Oh.' Harry couldn't decide if he thought this was a brilliant idea or not. On the one hand it would be excellent for traveling, on the other he didn't even want to think about the cleaning.

Hagrid returned from sending the poor little owl out into the storm and sat down as if nothing had happened. 'Where was I?'

'I said he's not going!' Vernon interrupted. Harry slowly got to his feet and inched in Dudley's direction in anticipation.

'Like a great muggle like you is gonna stop him.' Hagrid grunted.

'We swore we'd stop it. He will not be going!'

Harry belatedly (again) realised he was not really following the expected response. 'You knew?' He asked, trying to keep his tone calm. Despite this Petunia went of on a rant about how horrid it had been growing up with Lily. She mentioned Lily doing magic and bringing home frog spawn, the first Harry knew to be false, and the second highly unlikely as frog spawn was mostly used in specialized burns potions, not everyday ones. He missed her mentioning his parents getting blown up, however Dudley came to the rescue and Harry just adopted a stupefied look as if it were all too much.

'I thought you said the freak's parents died in a car accident.'

'CAR CRASH? Kill Lily and James Potter. It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowing his own story, when every kid in our world knows his name!'

'But what happened?' Harry asked, however he was frowning over Hagrid's previous statement. While it was true that magic would work in their favor, blunt force to the head of a witch or wizard would work just as effectively as it would on muggles. Harry eventually shrugged mentally and decided maybe his parents hadn't even had a car. Meanwhile Harry realised Hagrid had finished talking about you-know-who as was looking incredibly awkward.

'Took you from the house meself…'

'You were the first on the scene?' Harry interrupted.

'Well, no. Sirius Black got there first, but he gave you up alrigh', which has always made me wonder.'

'Sirius… Siri. I think I remember him.' Harry said carefully.

'Yeh do?' Hagrid was looking exceedingly uncomfortable, but Harry pushed on.

'I remember something… dark hair and warm hugs. There's something else too… or someone… wormy? But he wasn't so nice, made my skin crawl. And a third.' Harry frowned and shook his head. 'No I don't remember the third one.' He lied.

'Yeh sure it wasthe dark haired fellow tha' made yeh feel off?"

Harry nodded decisively.

'Load of old tosh.' Vernon said, making Harry jump. He'd forgotten about the Dursleys in amongst all his acting. 'A one year old can't remember things like that and it doesn't matter, I won't have one under my roof. He won't be going! The world is better off with less of you freaks in it – his parents deserved what they got if you ask me…'

'I'm warning you Dursley – one more word…' Hagrid trailed off but waved his pink umbrella threateningly. Harry mused that he was the only person he knew who could pull it off with any credit when suddenly an image of Voldemort waving about a pink and lacy umbrella came to mind and he started to go red from trying to hold in his laughter.

'Now don't yeh listen ter him Harry.' Hagrid said, obviously thinking Harry was distressed, 'Yer parents were great people. And you'll be just like them, you just wait en see.'

But this proved too much for Vernon. 'Haven't I told you enough times. He's not going. He'll be going to Stonewell High and he'll be grateful for it.'

'Stop Harry Potter from going to Hogwarts? Yer mad. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled–…'

'I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!' yelled Vernon, causing two things immediately. Hagrid jumped up with his umbrella and Harry jumped in front of Dudley. 'NEVER –' Hagrid thundered, '-INSULT – ALBUS – DUMBLEDORE – IN – FRONT – OF – ME!' He started to bring the umbrella down on Dudley, but seeing Harry in the way had to hold it.

'Move outta the way Harry.' He growled.

'No.' Harry said firmly, causing Dudley to let out a squeak of shock and Hagrid to lose his buster.

'Why didn't you move?'

'Just because you have magic and they don't doesn't mean you should use it against them.' Harry said firmly again. Apep had felt the tension building up in Harry and squeezed tighter forcing Harry to wince as Hagrid was about to answer. Thinking Harry thought he was going to hit him or something Hagrid forced himself to calm down and sat down on the sofa, which groaned under his weight.

'Very well, they're your relatives after all.' Hagrid looked as if the very idea disgusted him, but complied.

Dudley finally came un-petrified and ran from the room, and with a final glare Vernon and Petunia followed to make sure their son was alright. Hagrid settled them down for the night and Harry was given his coat for a blanket. Harry quickly made a small nest out of it and was asleep much faster than he'd expected to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

Harry woke to the feeling of Apep's tongue flicking against his neck and the sound of the post owl tapping on the window. Harry quickly asked how to pay and did so, but he also retrieved his Gringotts key from another pocket.

'What's this Hagrid?'

'What? Oh, that's yer Gringotts key – fer the bank. You can keep that now, but mind yer don't loose it, it's a heavy fee to replace them.'

'Thanks.

'We best be off, got lots to do today.'

They were soon off and across the harbor to the mainland on the small boat, Harry appreciating leaving the Dursley's behind all the more with his brain free to wander already knowing all the answers to the questions that had bothered him the first time around. He did enquire this time what Hagrid meant by 'flew', and discovered Hagrid still had Sirius' motorbike. Harry made a point of saying he'd always associated positive things with the sound of motorbikes. He knew it would be a while before he could outright say that Sirius was innocent, but a few *cough*hundreds*cough* hints couldn't hurt. The underground was another amusing experience, where older Harry appreciated the small things a lot more than the younger one could of. Hagrid had a particularly amusing take on the politics and drew an amusing analogy between Fudge and a nesting Dragon.

Harry bombarded Hagrid with questions, as he couldn't remember what he'd originally asked, but remembered having a thousand questions and reveling in the fact that he was _allowed_ to ask them. It had been one of the biggest rules of the Dursley house; not to ask questions. Soon enough they were outside the leaky cauldron and about to go in. However there was one thing Harry would definitely choose not to repeat.

'Um, Hagrid, did you say I was famous?'

'Of course, yeh brought down You-Know-Who, there are few as famous as yeh Harry.'

'Right, yes well, I'm still getting used to that, do you think I could wear a hat and we could avoid mentioning my name until I am a bit more used to crowds.'

'Blimey, I didn' even think of that. You've got a good head on yer shoulders, here I think I have some muggle money here somewhere, but you'll have to buy it. I get the notes confused. We'll jus' double back to that tourist shop we passed.'

Harry was inordinately pleased to buy himself a union jack hat, and they were soon through the leaky cauldron and out into Diagon alley with no hand shaking, nor meeting with Quirrell, although he had played with the idea of forcing the man to shake hands and watching him burn and then everyone's reactions to seeing Voldemort's specter still hanging around.

'We best start at Gringotts.' Hagrid said, moving forward easily parting the crowds. Harry had to jog to keep up.

'Gringotts?'

'Ah, yer parents bank.'

'My parents left money?' Harry tried to sound surprised, and not think about the fact that the bastards were still alive somewhere, taking full advantage of the Potter _family_ account, nor that they were planning on emptying it just before he reached his majority. Harry could only assume it was one of the hints that had led Nott to the Potters. Nott had worked in the finance department of Gringotts, and would have been very interested in the Potter file. Nott had also backed down too easily that night, leading Harry to guess that he was only there so Harry would find out.

'Of course they did. Yeh didn' think they kept it in their house? Safest place Gringotts, 'cept maybe Hogwarts.'

'Are their a lot of things kept at Hogwarts?' Harry asked with an innocent smile, but smirking internally.

Hagrid faltered in his step for a moment, but then continued on.

'Not much call for it, no.'

They made quick work of getting to the big white building, and Harry made note of the inscription on the doors – it was, in fact, a spell, and one of the defences of Gringotts. It had the vast failing that in order to detect stolen goods, one had to pass through the doors, and not the roof.

_Enter stranger but take heed,_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in return,_

_So if seek beneath our floors,_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief you have been warned, beware,_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry mused to himself, wondering idly where the big white dragon had ended up. Harry had never seen it again after they apperated to Hogwarts. Charlie had never mentioned anything either.

'Goblins Harry. Yeh best be careful around them. Mighty tricky.'

Harry nodded his head respectfully to the goblin guarding the door, who looked a little startled for a moment before giving a toothy grin.

'Now have yeh got your key? I have some other business to be doing while I'm here so we'll just…' Hagrid began, however Harry wasn't interested in that.

'Actually Hagrid, do you mind if I get my money on my own. I'll wait back here for you, and you said Gringotts was safe.'

'Um, that is…' Hagrid seemed very unsure, but Harry just gave him an innocent little smile.

'I'm sure that whatever you are doing is _very_ important.' Harry saw Hagrid puff out his chest quite a bit, and smirked as Hagrid nodded and allowed Harry to go in front of him as the next goblin called.

'Next.'

'Good morning, may your gold flow free.' Harry had been given firm lessons in goblin etiquette after being named Friend of the Goblin Nation. There were so many little things that wizards didn't bother with that were so easy to incorporate. Harry noticed the surprised, but pleased look on the goblins face.

'And may your pockets be filled with treasure. How may I assist you.'

'I wish to enquire about the maximum withdrawal from my trust fund, and then I would like to buy a blood-bound pouch, for me specifically. Oh, and I will convert some money to pounds once I have done with the cart ride.' Harry said firmly, tone of voice was important.

'A blood-bound purse will set you back an even 100.' The goblin warned.

Harry raised a hauty brow. 'Does such a simple task cost you so much, my, it must be very hard then.' During his lessons he had been shocked to learn that goblins actually liked being insulted, and saw it as a way of bargaining. This was no exception, and Harry had soon ordered the purse, with enough to hold all of his money and could only be accessed by him. It would cost him an extra fifteen galleons on top of the thirty flat rate to ensure that no closely related could access it. Brianclaw tried to point out that Harry didn't have any close relations of blood, however Harry gave him a derisive look 'I'm sure I don't.' This caused Brianclaw to reel back in shock, however while Dumbledore and the Potters no doubt paid of their goblins not to say anything, this was another goblin entirely, and while he would never blurt out information, he would also keep his silence, especially as Harry slid a gold galleon into his palm after leaving the trust vault. Harry also got a shocked look when Brianclaw noticed that Harry had only left a single knut in the vault.

'School supplies must have gone up since last I checked.' He commented.

'Well the price has certainly changed since I was last in the alley.' Harry mused. Brianclaw snorted. 'Besides,' Harry continued 'It will refill to the same amount at the end of the year, will it not? So if I only remove one galleon, then I only gain one. Whereas if I remove them all, I will gain the same amount.'

'And when you run the family vault dry?'

'Well, that is hardly _my_ concern is it.'

Brianclaww laughed a strong belly laugh. 'I do believe that there will be some shocked responses to your return to our world, Mr. Potter.'

'I should hope so.' Harry winked.

Hagrid was slightly startled when Harry greeted him alongside a laughing goblin, he had always seen them as a surly lot. He gave Harry a questioning look, but Harry just grinned and said 'it seems goblins have a fondness for muggle jokes.'

'But you're not a muggle.' Hagrid pointed out.

'No, but I know a good few.'

Harry was pretty sure neither Brianclaw nor Hagrid knew if he meant jokes, or muggles.

Harry had been cutting it fine, in getting some money exchanged into pounds before Hagrid got back, but Brianclaw had come through for him, noticing him glancing at the top of the cart tracks searching for Hagrid, and had sent a message to slow down Hagrid's cart. As a result Hagrid was looking a lot less queasy than he had in Harry's original timeline, however still green enough to excuse himself while Harry went to get robes.

Harry entered the shop to see a pale pointed face looking at him curiously.

'Hogwarts as well dear? I've got another one here getting measured now. Step on up.'

Harry nodded at Malfoy, and climbed onto the stool, however before either of them could comment on his hat Harry changed his order.

'Do you mind measuring me for regular clothes as well, a set of everything you think I'll need. Oh, except I won't be needing a Hogwarts hat.'

Madam Malkin seemed a little shocked, however quickly wrote up a list of what she thought Harry would need, which Harry nodded at after reading. Only adding that he wanted an extra set of everyday casual robes in emerald green.

'So are you expecting to be in Slytherin then?' Malfoy asked, not introducing himself.

Harry shrugged. 'Maybe, but mostly they will match my eyes.' Harry wasn't sure what Ron would make of the Slytherin colours, however he looked good in green, and had always felt stupid on weekends when everyone else wore casual robes, or muggle clothes, and Harry had always had to wear the black school robes because he was too embarrassed about Dudley's hand-me-downs. After the hectic ends to each year it had always been too far from Harry's mind and he never remembered for the next year. He would not, however, be wasting money on a hat. He had bought one every year, as he grew out of the last, and had never once worn one.

'Where are your parents? My father is next door buying me books, and mother is off looking at wands.'

'Dead. Are you seriously planning on letting someone else pick something so important?' Malfoy flushed twice in one sentence, and despite feeling twenty-eight, and Malfoy being only eleven, Harry still got a bit of a thrill in getting one up on his old school rival.

'They were our sort though, weren't they?' Malfoy quickly got his sneer back.

'They were witch and wizard, yes. Although that hardly matters as I don't remember them.'

'Sorry.' Malfoy said, although he didn't sound it. 'What's your last name anyway?'

'I couldn't say, then you'd have me at an advantage.'

'All done dear.' Madam Malkin interrupted, 'You're free to go.'

Harry smiled and paid for his purchases, taking them outside just as Hagrid arrived with two ice-creams. He seemed surprised to see Harry, however Harry had made a point to stay perfectly still, meaning measuring his robes had been significantly easier than measuring the fidgeting Malfoy.

'Are yeh done already?'

Harry smiled and took the offered ice-cream, then directed the conversation towards Quidditch and didn't even have to fake his enthusiasm. He had missed flying. The life-time ban Umbridge had instilled had been another of those pesky binding magical contracts, and as she went on the run and disappeared overseas somewhere, Harry had never been able to break it, and so never been allowed to play again. It had broken his heart, and was probably one of the reasons (although there were many others) why he and Ginny never worked out. She had become a chaser for the Harpies, but Harry had never been able to bring himself to go to one of her games.

Hagrid had wanted to head towards Florish and Blotts next, however Harry pointed out that if he got a trunk next he wouldn't have to carry so much. So off they went to a tiny shop between Ollivanders and a pawnshop where Ron had found Hermione's betrothal ring. Hagrid was a little too large for the narrow isles that winded between the piles of trunks and luggage, which suited Harry fine, as his trunk wasn't going to be normal. It wasn't until he and Luna had been sorting through her old school things one day cleaning up after her dad died when Harry had discovered that most Ravenclaws (and Harry suspected probably Hermione) bought a Ravenclaw standard trunk, rather than a Hogwarts standard trunk. These had two compartments, one of which was a magically expanded space with enough bookshelves to hold a small library. Harry wasn't planning on being overly bookish, but could see the distinct advantage and didn't really understand why, for a mere extra three galleons difference, most people didn't get them. The second difference wouldn't be quite so easy.

'I don't suppose you have any safe-box trunks?'

The jovial man, who reminded Harry far too much of Slughorn, grinned at this, and immediately tried to talk Harry into a trunk similar to Moody's for nearly four hundred galleons. Harry had no intention of anything so obvious, and said so. He soon had talked his way into a much smaller extra compartment, which was warded to high hell and password protected, but only big enough for a single quaffle. Harry still had his two pouches from the future, as well as the money pouch from the goblins, which covered space enough that he only really needed enough room for a snitch. The extra compartment cost just under seven galleons, adding up to sixteen galleons, sixteen sickles and twenty two knuts. Despite the high cost Harry knew it was worth it, as soon as he was alone he intended on setting a parseltongue password, making it available for only two people to access, and had every intention of it being something tom riddle would never expect.

If Hagrid was surprised when harry enthusiastically showed him the library compartment, he didn't show it, only commenting on how they wouldn't be able to spend too much time in the bookstore if they didn't hurry. As it happened, Florish and Blotts hadn't changed their layout in over seventy years, so Harry found all the books he wanted with relative ease, and managed to slip in quite a few advanced ones without Hagrid noticing. One of the things he had been most worried about, in coming back was that he would have to sit through the lower years again, however Luna pointed out that he hadn't had much time to really absorb things the first time, although she did expect him to take Runes and Arithmency this time, as well as maybe healing if Madam Pomphrey allowed it. Somehow Harry didn't see that as a problem as he had spent so much time in the infirmary, that by the time he finished seventh year a year late, he knew exactly how to get her wrapped around his little finger.

'Yeh planning on joining the ravens then Harry?' Hagrid commented, when the cashier brought up the total.

'Knowledge is more valuable than gold. Which ravens?' Harry had reacted instinctively, and only remembered to add the last bit on just in time. Hagrid launched into an explanation of the houses. Harry blatantly ignored it. He planned on talking the hat into allowing him into Gryffindor again, as he now had plenty of proof that he was worthy, and could even point out he'd pulled Godric's sword if need be. He did notice Hagrid was putting a lot of emphasis on Gryffindor, and only negative connotations on Slytherin, blatantly pointing out that it was the house you-know-who was from. Harry smiled and tried to look influenced, but could recognize Dumbledore's influence a mile off, and was in a bad mood by the time they reached the apothecary, causing Harry to snap at the clerk that he wanted the Slytherin first year set, and that they had better be good enough quality ingredients to suit his tastes. Harry had been mad beyond belief when Daphne had told him that Snape sent out for these kits after the sorting, and told only his Slytherins about them for later years. He had always been terrible at potions (excluding the half-blood prince book), however Hermione had struggled with great skill on sub-par ingredients. Working as an Auror had given him a great appreciation for just how hard polyjuice was to brew, and it hadn't been beyond his notice that he had struggled with a potion she had managed when she was twelve.

'Just yer wand left – Oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a Birthday present.'

Despite knowing it was coming, Harry felt himself go red.

'You really don't have...'

'I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get you an animal. Not a toad, toads went out of fashion years ago. An' I'm allergic to cats. I'll get yer an owl. They're dead useful creatures.'

This put Harry in an awkward position. Firstly, he didn't know if he wanted to replace Hedwig, as he still hadn't really got over losing her, and he knew that even though physically it would be the same owl, it wouldn't be _his_ Hedwig, and it didn't feel right. He also didn't know how Apep would feel about sharing Harry, but he didn't want to hurt Hagrid's feelings.

Something of Harry's indecision must have shown on his face, as Hagrid frowned. 'Don't yeh like birds?'

'No, it's not that, only… there was an owl that lived near the Dursleys once, a beautiful white one. She used to watch over me when I was gardening, even though it was day. I don't want to feel like I'm replacing her.'

There. That was the closest he could come to the truth. It sounded pretty lame, but surprisingly Hagrid seemed to understand, and after pushing Harry into Ollivanders, he said he'd go and find out what he could manage. Obviously Harry's previous independence had been showing, as Harry realised Hagrid looked wistfully at the wand shop, but didn't follow him in.

'Ah, yes.' Ollivander said from directly behind Harry. 'Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.' Harry had to hold back a snort, it was a lot easier to be impressed the first time when Harry hadn't really understood how famous he was, and didn't recognize the identifier ward that Ollivander had set up over his door. Harry did make a mental note to add that one to his trunk, he had no doubt various busy-bodies would have a look, and he had never thought of using that, but knowing what to expect all the time lead to a wandering mind. It wandered so much that Harry missed the whole spiel about his parents wands, which, in the circumstances Harry could only be glad for. He was startled out of his thoughts when Ollivander pulled up the cap and poked his scar. Harry sent him a vicious glare, which surprisingly actually had effect on the old man, then stuck out his right arm without being asked.

'Curious.' Was all Ollivander had to say. Harry was not at all inclined to ask what.

Finding a wand proved to be just as long, if not longer process than last time, and Harry had admitted only to himself that he was just the tiniest bit worried that his holly wand wouldn't choose him again. After all, the wand chooses the wizard, and Harry was a vastly different wizard to what he was before. So it was with quite a lot of relief when he was passed his wand and felt a warm shiver pass over his whole body.

'This one.' Harry said, holding it close and not even giving it a wave.

'How can you be sure?'

'I am sure.'

Ollivander gave him a strange look, before starting to pack the wand into its black box. 'It is curious that you should be destined for this wand.'

'Oh?'

'Yes. I believe we can expect great things from you mister Potter, as there is a brother wand to yours. The phoenix that gave me this feather gave one other. Your wand's brother did great things… terrible, yes. But great.'

There was an awkward pause, however Ollivander said nothing more, and other than buying a wand holster, Harry made no further comment.

Harry was greeted outside the wand shop by Hagrid clutching a small cage. Inside the cage was a beautiful tawny owl. It was, despite being a much more common variety than Hedwig had been as a snowy, beautiful enough in it's own right that it would still draw attention up close, if not from afar like Hedwig. It had golden brown feathers with pale white spots on it's back and was creamy on it's belly, but with long dark brown feathers mixed across. Harry felt a swell of guilt, as he realised Hedwig would now be left in the shop, and a single tear dropped down his cheek. Despite this he stood by his choice, as he and Hedwig had developed a strong bond, and he would be hurt every time he saw her and she didn't respond.

'Hadwin. His name will be Hadwin.' Harry said, more than a little teary. 'Thank you Hagrid.'

Hagrid seemed a little overwhelmed by Harry's strong response and patted him lightly on the back (almost sending Harry to his knees), and muttered about the Dursley's being horrible people. Harry let Hagrid assume away.

Hagrid took Harry to a muggle restaurant before his train came, and Harry tried to follow the same conversation, but the details were blurry, and he just made some insecure comments, and asked about how to get to the Hogwarts express. Hagrid reassured him, and went red when he realised he'd almost forgotten to tell harry about getting to platform 9¾, then saw Harry onto his train. Harry smiled and waved until Hagrid was out of sight… and then promptly pulled his trunk back down from the rack above, before making his way to the door and getting back _off_ the train at the next station. He was damned if he'd be returning to the Dursleys again before school. He had worked quite hard at understanding warding over the years, and thought that if he'd had any choice he might have focused on it for a living. He had, naturally, taken great interest in blood wards. He read the wards at the Dursleys the night before they left, and saw that they were fully charged. Harry imagined it was because he didn't resent Dudley so much, and liking someone linked to the Evans blood would drastically increase the rate in which the wards charged. Of course he only originally needed three days to charge the wards enough to last a year, not the two or three weeks Dumbledore had claimed.

Harry calmly called a taxi and checked in to a youth hostel not far from Kings-cross station. The desk-staff had been rather unsure about letting a child rent a room for a month, and Harry had to put Hadwin (in his cage) inside the trunk and carry a fair amount of the bags while he set up, but a fifty-pound bribe had eased the way, and Harry found himself in a small room looking out over the train station. He quickly let Hadwin out, apologizing profusely.

'I hope you don't mind Hadwin, it means friend at war, and it is honor of a great owl, Hedwig, who I miss sorely.' Hadwin gave Harry a slightly ruffled look, but didn't turn away, which Harry could only take as a good sign. Harry next set up the Parseltongue password and placed all his most valuable belongings in the hidden compartment, slipped out of everything but his boxers, and had fallen asleep exhausted before he knew it.


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR.**

The month living at the hostel had passed quicker than Harry had expected. Harry had rung Aunt Petunia to let her know he'd be making his own way until next summer, which she had sniffed at, before hanging up on him. He passed the majority of his time reading up on the first-year books and familiarizing himself with what he could plausibly know, and what he would have to keep hidden. He also spent an inordinate amount of time learning the first year potions book inside out in the hope that Snape might not hate him _quite_ so much. He spent a few days exploring the tourist spots of London, but got odd stares for being alone and eleven, so mostly just stuck to his room. Before he knew it, it was September first and he was letting Hadwin out of his cage, addressing a letter to Hagrid at Hogwarts as a way of sending him ahead, and dragging his trunk across the road to Kings Cross.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait around hoping someone would show him how to make the platform, and was soon sitting in a compartment happily reading a basic book on Runes. Before anyone much else could arrive he had taken advantage of being able to perform magic, and charmed all of his books that weren't first-year ones with strong notice-me-not's on the covers, and had added about fifteen different protection wards to his trunk, including two blood wards and a identifier ward similar to the one in Ollivanders. Apep was safely wrapped around his middle, and now had a sort of pouch, which Harry had set up by taking all of his shirts to a Chinese seamstress a few blocks from the hostel. All of his shirts, had an extra layer of fabric, with splits on either side so Apep could easily be hidden, yet be able to get in and out quickly. Once Harry had more time at Hogwarts he would set up more protective charms and an expansion ward so that from the outside there wouldn't even be a bulge. For now Harry just changed into his Hogwarts robes straight up, which easily covered Apep.

Harry wouldn't be able to talk to Apep in public anymore, which made him quite sad, as he was a friendly conversationalist who actually knew Harry's past-future, which no one else would. Harry had, however used a distorted form of the muffilato charm, meaning Apep could make comments to him, and no one else would hear the hissing. This measure of privacy was put to the test straight away as other students (and their pets) started arriving and Apep made sarcastic commentary on them which was funny enough to make Harry snort out loud more than a few times.

Harry saw the Weasleys arrive, but sadly they were down the other end of the train, and other than the blur of the twins racing past after Lee Jordan and his tarantula, Harry didn't see them. He was beginning to wonder if he would be making the journey alone in his compartment when Neville shyly knocked and asked if he minded if he joined him. Harry grinned and waved him in.

'Hi, I'm Harry, are you a first year too?'

'I'm N-Neville Longbottom. Nice to meet you.' Neville smiled, and struggled to drag his trunk in while clutching Trevor in one hand. Harry could see the toad valiantly trying to escape, and shut the door firmly before offering to help Neville lift the trunk onto the racks. As he suspected, Trevor took this chance to make a break for freedom, however only got as far as the door, and settled for trying to bury himself head-first into the corner of the room.

'Looks like you've got yourself an escape artist.' Harry commented with a smile. 'I heard someone at the petshop mention a magical leesh for pets. It's a line that you can't see, but it means they can't get more than a certain distance from you.' Harry had actually heard about this from Neville in fourth year, when Harry realised he no longer had problems with Trevor escaping, but knew _his_ Neville would appreciate the white lie, so assumed this one would too.

'I don't know how good I'm going to be at magic. I'll probably stuff it up and hurt him.'

Harry had forgotten how painfully unsure Neville had been. 'Well I'm sure if you asked an older student in your house, or maybe an older Hufflepuff, then they'd be happy to help you out.'

'I'll probably be in Hufflepuff.' Neville said sadly.

'Really,' Harry pretended to size him up, 'I had you pegged as a Gryffindor, but I guess you'd know best.'

Neville seemed to perk up a bit at this. 'My mum and dad were Gryffindors. What about you?'

'My mum and dad were Gryffindors as well as it happens, but I guess I won't know until tonight where I'll be. I'm hoping for Gryffindor.'

The conversation led on easily from there, every time Neville became shy Harry drew him out again with ease; Harry had had years of practice at it after all. They had been traveling for several hours, and were almost at the stage of being bored by exploding snap and chocolate frogs (Harry had been amused when Neville got two Dumbledore's) when the door slid open and Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle stepped in.

'Is it true, they are saying all down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. Is it you?'

Harry frowned, because Neville and Hermione hadn't been on a toad hunt they hadn't seen anyone but the trolley lady, so he had to wonder exactly _who_ was saying up and down the train. He hadn't talked to the Weasley twins either, who Harry assumed it had been last time. Before he could respond Neville spoke up.

'Well if he's in this compartment, it obviously isn't me Draco.'

Harry was surprised, Neville sounded much more confident, and almost sarcastic. Of course he should have known that the two might know each other. Harry had just had a long conversation about how Neville had spent the last four years at a snobby tutor, only for purebloods. His gran hadn't approved of the company, but the tutor was Frank's old tutor, so off Neville had been sent.

'Longbottom.' Draco acknowledged with a sigh, before turning back to Harry expectantly.

'Yes, I'm Harry Potter.' Harry ignored Neville's squeak.

'Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.' And Malfoy extended his hand. Harry stared at it for a moment before shaking it lightly. He hadn't considered this, but without Ron and the Malfoy-Weasley feud (which turned out to be a legitimate nineteen generation feud), there was no reason for Harry and Draco to get off to a bad start. He wondered what would happen when he got into Gryffindor.

'Did you end up letting your mum pick your wand then?' Harry teased, wanting to test the waters. Malfoy looked confused for a moment before realizing he had met Harry in Diagon alley.

'Hey! You never said who you were.'

Harry just snorted in reply.

'So Neville, since you seem to know everyone, want to introduce me to Malfoy's friends, since he doesn't seem to be inclined to.' Harry kept the teasing tone in his voice, and Malfoy blushed heavily before introducing Crabbe and Goyle, who grunted, but held out their hands to shake.

Much to his amusement Malfoy and co. didn't leave afterwards, sitting down without asking, and Harry found himself playing exploding snap with the three Slytherins (and actually getting on with them). Malfoy only made one disparaging comment about mudbloods, in which Harry asked him politely not to use that term around him, and one slip up in which he let Harry know that Neville's parents were in hospital in the long-term damage ward. Harry managed to consol Neville, while still making his parents sound brave heroes, and also make Malfoy promise never to bring it up again all in one breath. Other than that they all got on quite well, and before they knew it the train was pulling in to Hogwarts and Neville was scrambling to get his robes on.

'Firs'-years, firs'-years over here. Alright there Harry?' Hagrid called out over the group sending Harry a big smile. Malfoy made an aborted derisive noise when Harry gave him a frown. When they got to the boats Malfoy gestured for Harry to join him and Crabbe and Goyle, however Harry wasn't about to abandon Neville, so they hopped in to a different boat with Su Li and Hermione. Hermione was nervously listing knowledge like her life depended on it, which appeared to be annoying Su Li to no end. Harry smiled fondly, Hermione never did get on well with Ravenclaws. Neville didn't look to be too appreciative either, especially when Hermione started talking about the time giant squid had attacked the first year boats in a fit of pique in 1943. Harry found the whole thing rather nice. After Ron's death Hermione had retreated in on herself around others, and while she still acted the same around Harry, Luna, Neville and Hannah Abbot (who Neville had married), in general she was shy and quiet and didn't talk much in company. He missed the old Hermione, and had to remind himself forcibly that this was not _his_ Hermione, but she could easily become something equally as nice.

Harry managed to stop Trevor from escaping again when they got out of the boats, with the help of Apep, who could smell Trevor and quickly directed Harry to the dark spot he was hiding in.

'Who would bring a _toad_?' Harry spun around to face Ron in shock. It was partially because he sounded so mean, but it was mostly because Harry had missed his best friends voice. Gods how he had missed Ron. Harry practically drank in how Ron looked. Harry noted there was no scar running down Ron's neck where the brains had got him in the department of Mysteries nor the scar on his forehead where he'd been hit by flying shrapnel in the final battle (Ron had joked about having to match his best mate so everyone knew who he was, then chased Hermione around for an hour with a sharp rock). It hurt to know this also wasn't _his_ Ron, but he also hadn't seen _any_ Ron in several years, and the familiar long nose, freckled skin and lanky look was still the same. Harry had to turn away without responding because he was almost about to cry, he could feel Apep tighten around him as he'd felt Harry's breathing change. Harry gave Neville a weak smile as he handed Trevor back, but didn't say anything.

The first-years were soon ushered into Hogwarts, and after the traditional greeting from the ghosts (although they denied it, despite _accidentally_ stumbling on the first years _every_ _year_), were soon standing up on stage waiting for the sorting to begin. Harry found himself standing next to Hermione, who was chanting all the spells she knew under her breath. Again, Harry found this mildly relaxing, and he watched her fondly while the sorting hat sang. Unbeknownst to him, he was already having a very different effect through these tiny actions. Snape was actually finding it hard seeing Harry as a young James, as James had already been full of life and trickery, while Harry was looking around wistfully, and a little sad.

McGonagall stepped forward catching everyone's attention. 'When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.' She said firmly. Only years of knowing her allowed Harry to see the fond smile that only really showed through in a tiny upturn of the corner of her mouth and in her eyes. 'Abbot, Hannah.'

Harry watched as the hat wriggled about on Hannah's head, before shouting out that she would be in Hufflepuff. It was odd, watching the sorting and already knowing where they were going to go. It was more telling too. Terry Boot had been mouthing something, which Harry strongly suspected was _not Gryffindor_, which he found interesting, he wouldn't have pegged Terry for it. He noticed Hermione spent quite a long time under the hat, compared to everyone else, and knew she was arguing to get into Gryffindor. They had had a long conversation about it one night in the tent. Harry noted the internal war going on as Parvati didn't follow Padma to Ravenclaw. He saw the devastated look on both girls faces, and remembered vaguely Parvati being very quiet for the first few months. Sally-Anne Perks went to Hufflepuff, and then he was up.

'Potter, Harry.' McGonagall called, and Harry saw hope sparkle in her eyes.

Harry groaned internally as whispers broke out across the hall.

'Harry Potter?'

'Did she say Harry Potter?'

'_The_ Harry Potter!'

He had forgotten he would have to go through this again. Every year for the first few months Harry had put up with people goggling at him, but this first year had been terrible. Right up until the first Quidditch game, where people had had a chance to watch him blatantly.

He tried not to think about it too much as the hat sank over his eyes.

'Hmm,' said a small voice in his ear. 'Difficult, very Difficult–… Wait! What is this?!'

'Erm, so I suppose you might have noticed that you've sorted me before then?' Harry thought carefully.

'I have. How odd. I haven't had a time-traveller in quite some time.'

'You have before?'

'Oh yes, quite a few times actually. But mostly just short term ones, people who didn't like their sorting and went back to fix it that night… or try. There have been two or three long distant ones. But not for some centuries. Not since the olde magic began to be forgotten. Rituals have been banned in the last half-century, and the wizarding world isn't being careful enough about what they are losing.'

Harry found himself quite intrigued, but gave a mental shove to the hat bringing him back to the sorting. 'Ah yes, Sorry Harry. Well you've still got plenty of courage, and your thirst for knowledge has improved greatly, but then so has your ambition, and your loyalty. Hmm… but where to put you. Normally the second sorting is easier, but you have always been different, haven't you?'

'I did well in Gryffindor last time.' Harry tried to point out. 'And I pulled Godric's sword from you.'

'Yes, but then I still think Slytherin would help you, and as you obviously had enough wrong to warrant coming back… yes I think we'll go with that. Better be…'

'WAIT! Not Slytherin!'

'Why ever not?'

'Because all my friends are in Gryffindor.'

'Hmm… no, I'm afraid not. You shall thank me for putting you in SLYTHERIN.' The hat called the last word out for the hall. 'They are not the same friends after all. Come and talk again. Good Luck Harry.' Harry barely registered the parting comment as he slowly pulled the hat off his head and walked across to the Slytherin table in the complete silence of the room. Not a single person clapped for a long time, everyone was in complete shock, Harry especially. All of his and Luna's plans had been based around him in Gryffindor. Harry almost wanted to cry. Eventually it was Neville who moved the school on. He slowly clapped quietly. He went bright red as the school shifted to look at him, but he had seen that Harry was clearly quite distressed and could imagine having that response to his sorting… in fact he had been imagining something similar in nightmares for weeks. Harry had been really nice to him on the train, so he showed the Neville Harry knew from later years and clapped until some stunned students and staff slowly joined in, and eventually McGonagall called weakly for Lisa Turpin.

Harry hadn't really thought about other people's reactions, but it hurt more than he would like to admit when Lisa got the normal cheer, and even more than that when he heard the Weasley twins chanting 'We got Ronikins, we got Ronikins.' _His_ Ron would be laughing his head off at the irony, that is… if he wasn't rolling in his grave at Harry being a slimy snake. Blaise Zabini soon joined the Slytherin table sliding in next to Harry to the cheers of the whole table. Harry clapped along without really knowing what he was doing. That hurt too, even if it was Slytherin. Slytherin had never supported Harry, so he hadn't thought it would bother him. But it did.

Harry glanced up at the staff table as Dumbledore stood to make his pathetic speech. Harry could feel the rage building up inside him as he saw the old man for the first time again. Harry eventually dragged his gaze away and along the table. He passed Snape with a jolt, realizing he didn't know if Snape knew Lily was still alive or not. He couldn't decide which he would prefer. He would rather everyone not be part of it, but knew that it would hurt the professor to find out Lily had been alive and not contacted him. In fact it would probably send him right back to Voldemort. Harry wouldn't blame him either. Harry looked away a moment after Snape looked at him. So many things he hadn't expected hurt. Seeing Snape look at him like he was a disgusting bug again made something twist deep inside Harry. Finally, Harry brought his gaze to Quirrell. He was surprised, although he shouldn't have been, when he felt something try and attack his occlumency barriers. He distinctly remembered his scar burning that first night. Unfortunately for Voldemort Harry had ended up getting his masters in the mind arts (youngest person ever!), and would give Snape an easy run for his money when it came to it. Harry sighed and looked down at his plate.

As soon as Dumbledore finished with his four odd words, talk further along the Slytherin table burst out in hissed whispers, however for all their supposed slyness, Harry caught his name more often than not. The first years around him remained awkwardly silent. Eventually Harry got sick of it and looked up.

'Hi, my name is Harry Potter.' He said, sticking his hand out for Zabini to shake. Zabini blinked at him for a long moment before taking his hand. 'Never heard of you. I'm Blaise Zabini.'

Harry grinned in relief, and the tension in the air broke. 'Yes well, it's a relatively unknown name.' Harry returned with a wink, before turning to face Theodore Nott, who introduced himself, but immediately followed it with 'but for Merlin's sake call me Theo or Ted!'

'Nice to meet you Theo.'

Slowly each of the boys, then each of the girls introduced themselves, some more warily than others. Eventually Malfoy stated the obvious. 'I thought you were alright on the train, but I never even considered you might be in _Slytherin_!'

'Are you suggesting there is something wrong with our house?' Harry demanded, and Malfoy… no _Draco_ walked straight into the trap.

'No! Of course not.'

'Ah, so you're saying there is something wrong with me then.'

Draco spluttered and flailed for words, but Harry just turned away with a smirk.

'So am I to take it you all know each other then?' Harry asked Daphne, who was sitting opposite him.

'What would make you say that?'

'The fact that you introduced yourselves to me, but not each other.'

'Ah. Yes, most of us have known each other for years, and our families all interact.'

Harry felt Blaise stiffen a little beside him. It took a moment before he remembered Blaise's mum had inter married with sixteen families by the time Harry went back in time. He wondered if that had been a purposeful barb on Daphne's part, or if Blaise was just overly sensitive. Slowly the first year Slytherins relaxed around him, and conversation soon moved to other topics. They were all happily chatting about their Quidditch teams, and Harry remaining quiet until Theo asked Harry what his were.

'I don't know. I've never seen a Quidditch match.'

'What do you mean you've never seen one? Even if whoever took you in didn't want anyone to know who you were, there are glamour potions for children.' Pansy said snootily.

'Yes, well even potions are beyond your average muggle.' Harry replied smoothly. The response was immediate.

'You what?'

'But you…'

'What do you mean _muggle_?'

'What!'

'But then… you've ridden a broom right?'

The story soon traveled up the Slytherin table, and everyone turned to stare at Harry. 'What?' He asked with a sneer, as if he didn't think he'd stunned them all.

'You mean to tell me a muggle was your only source of information about your real world?' Blaise spoke up. Harry eyed the dark boy warily.

'I didn't _know_ about the magical world until I got my letter… or more, until Hagrid showed up.'

Harry felt inordinately pleased with himself. He'd just stunned the entirety of Slytherin house to silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

Despite pulling one over Slytherin, Harry was not happy. He had caught sight of Ron sneering at him, and Hermione frowning at him. It wasn't _his_ Ron, or _his_ Hermione, but it hurt. Oh how it hurt. After his scathing comments about his upbringing Harry remained silent and aloof from the Slytherins. He knew from Daphne, the original one that is, that this behavior would only win him points in the eyes of his house, but mostly he just needed time to completely re-vamp his plans. This was a lot easier said than done.

Before Harry knew it the feast was over, he had even managed to miss Dumbledore's speech on corridors inducing sudden death. Although he did hear a lot of Slytherins wondering if there could be any benefit for them finding out exactly what was on the third floor. Harry could only assume one of them would find out and they would be sensible enough not to risk their life against a giant three-headed dog. Harry frowned and glanced up at Hagrid. He had been so cheery and nice to Harry in the boats, but Harry had seen the look of distrust when his eyes passed over Harry now. He supposed Hagrid was one person who had legitimate reasons to be wary of befriending Slytherins. Harry sighed and followed the mass of green down into the depths of the school. He was already missing Gryffindor tower. He would have to break in a few times to see it.

Harry wasn't sure what to expect when he came to the Slytherin dorms, but was pleasantly surprised to see the Slytherins happily chatting away to each other about their holidays. They were a lot quieter than the Gryffindors, but not hostile behind closed doors. Harry stood awkwardly next to Blaise Zabini as he chatted to Nott- Theo. It took him a little while to realise that _everyone_ was in the common room, and were slowly making their way into year ranks. Harry didn't like it.

.:You are tense Harry. The magic here is welcoming you. Why are you worried? I can feel your magic coming out of you and it is defensive. I don't like it:. Harry startled slightly. He had got so used to having Apep wrapped around him that he often forgot he was there when he'd remained silent throughout the feast. Not being able to respond, Harry tried to force himself to relax, and concentrate on what Apep had been saying. Harry blocked out the babbling students around him and focused on magical sight. It was something that took years to develop, and Harry still struggled with it, but while he couldn't yet _see_ magic, he was able to feel it a little. Harry centered his magical core and let the magic of the earth flow over him. At first he thought it was just Hogwarts, Harry had always been able to feel her magic, but after a moment he sensed something different. It was darker, but not in a negative way, and it was definitely welcoming. Harry looked around the room focusing on the various points it was strongest, then let out a small gasp. Blaise was looking at him with a narrowed frown, but Harry was completely in his own world. It was parselmagic. And it was… revering him. It wasn't anything strong or obvious, but the snake motives around the room were actually runes written in parselscript, and they were… for lack of a better term, _happy_ to have a parseltongue near by. Harry let a small smile grace the corner of his lips, before returning to the real world and noticing Blaise's look.

'Problem Zabini?' Harry asked with a hard look.

'Nothing.' But his speculative look didn't leave Harry for the rest of the night.

'Welcome to the greatest of the Hogwarts houses.'

Harry's attention snapped up as Snape made himself know. The response was immediate, and the whole house calmed down to silence almost immediately. Snape had always had that effect in class, or a room at large. He and McGonagall could both call attention with very little effort. But usually it was a sullen acceptance of Snape's dominance. Here, in the heart of the snake nest, they looked up to him with respect, and it showed.

'We have some new members, as is expected. Ah, and we have Harry Potter.' Snape did not quite have his more usual sneer, but the message that he didn't like Harry was quite obvious. 'You should all know the rules of Slytherin, however I will go over them for those who don't. Take careful note, as I am not too forgiving of failure.'

It took everything Harry had not to snort.

'We are a noble and great house, and we deserve respect. Unfortunately the more common houses don't agree. You will be up against terrible prejudice in this school, I warn you now. I expect _some of you_,' Snape looked at Harry with the new condescending grimace, 'will have to learn this lesson on your own. Slytherins do not to get caught. Any disagreements or rivalries within the house stay within these walls. If we show a weakness outside we will all be eaten alive, and I will not be best pleased.'

While Harry pretended to be oblivious, he could see what Snape was doing. It wasn't in the words so much, as the sly glances and slight inflections. He was telling Slytherin about him. He was telling them he did not like having Harry Potter in his house, and they weren't to like it either. Outside of the common room Harry was not to be singled out, but within these walls he was fair game. Harry sighed as Blaise moved slightly away from him. The tall black boy had been so promising too.

Snape made some more jibes at Harry as he listed Slytherin's take on school rules, which teachers to avoid (mainly McGonagall and Babbling) and how to contact him if in need of assistance. Harry couldn't imagine going to this Snape for assistance. Despite Snape's sacrifice, in the end it didn't matter which side he was on to Harry anymore. He wasn't about to go and join Voldemort, but he hated Dumbledore more. He had been prophesized to kill Voldemort, they were obviously never going to be best friends, but Dumbledore had no such excuse. Harry wondered idly about Grindelwald, and if that was all a sham too. He might even look in to it after he sorted out his Tom problem.

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by Apep tightening around him. He realised with some panic that the whole house was focused on the first years, who were all looking suddenly shy.

.:The strong-smelling man wishes you to state your name and something they don't know about you:.

Thank god for Apep. Snape was glaring daggers at Harry, so he calmly stepped forward and cleared his throat.

'Harry Potter, just in case you missed it.' There were still some weak laughs around the group, but Harry could already feel the damage Snape had done, and the shift in loyalty. Suddenly Harry felt really angry, and had the sudden urge to tell them that the thing they didn't know was that Snape had been in love with his mum. Harry snorted internally. Yes, because that would go down well. What was he meant to tell them about himself though? It couldn't be anything important, he wasn't stupid. He knew anything and everything he did would be reported back their fathers or uncles who supported matching tattoos. Harry frowned slightly, and shook his head as he realised the break in thought was taking too long. Harry suddenly switched on his innocent eleven-year old look, smiling shyly. 'I have never tried pumpkin juice before, but I think it's my new favorite.'

The majority of the younger years laughed awkwardly again, but the older years saw straight through his performance. But then, that was the point. Harry still wasn't sure if he was happy about being in Slytherin, but if he were going to be a snake, he would be the top one. He knew that their house had an entire political ranking, and there was no way in hell he was submitting to Malfoy. Voldemort had never been able to make him, and he was damned if he would let this house drown under the same ruler that had taken over in third year. Harry hadn't seen it at the time, but around then there had been a power shift in Slytherin, and Malfoy had been top dog… or snake. Whatever. Harry had been the epitome Gryffindor, and proud of it. But that wasn't to say he wasn't aware of exactly why the sorting hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin. Daphne had once told him that it was always assumed by their house that it was because he was a parseltongue. Harry hadn't been aware his secret was that well known, but was happy to let them travel along with their assumptions. Harry had hated it as a child, but had long since come to turns with his sly side.

The introductions were informative to say the least. It was quite clear to see who truly lived and breathed Slytherin traits. Daphne, Tracey and Pansy all stated innocuous secrets, while Millicent Bullstrode came right out and said she was petrified of spiders, and Lillian Moon admitted she'd only found out she was a witch when she was seven. Well thank you for giving away your weaknesses. Now anyone just needed to get their hands on a spider to freak Millicent out (not very hard in a dusty old castle, nee the basilisk), and while Harry didn't mind, the majority of the house would judge Lilian on her muggle upbringing. Even if both her parents were squibs from noble houses.

Draco was stupider than Harry remembered, and prattled on about his father's job. As if every person in this house older than thirteen wouldn't be acutely aware of just how much influence Lucius bloody Malfoy held. If Harry didn't know Malfoy better he would assume he was being sly, but in reality Malfoy was just a spoilt little brat, despite being good at exploding snap. Blaise and Theo both gave nothing away, and while Goyle seemed completely clueless, Crabbe spoke with an obviously well educated tone. Harry narrowed his eyes as the boy immediately slipped back into his stupid guise after speaking. Harry would be watching him.

Once they were all done Snape gave each first year a mentor to contact before bothering him, then sent everyone off to bed. Harry was surprised when everyone went. He noted, with some amusement, the foul glare on Marcus Flint's face when he was named Harry's mentor, Harry wondered what Flint had done to piss Snape off. Oh well, at least he would get a chance to bring up Quidditch. He was aware that his chances of getting on the team and a broom from his head of house were about equal to his chances of waking up on the moon tomorrow, but he knew that above everything else (including rules) Slytherin played to win when it came to Quidditch. And Harry was good. It helped that their seeker was horrible, and Harry happened to know that there weren't many other options available. For all his gloating about Malfoy buying his way onto the team, Harry knew he was actually the best they had. Unfortunately for Malfoy, Harry was better.

Harry didn't mean to sound a snob, but the one time he'd been back on a broom after school he'd been at a ministry ball in genova, and seriously drunk. Viktor Krum had been there, and he and Viktor had somehow got talked into a seeker-off. Firstly, Harry could barely walk straight. He remembered scott, his Auror partner at the time trying to stop him from 'flying to his death'. Secondly, that had been the first time he'd been on a broom since Umbridge banned him four years earlier. Krum was still playing international matches. It hadn't mattered. Harry was born to fly. He'd won hands down three times out of three. It was one of his proudest, yet most bitter moments. Krum, instead of getting jealous, was really pleased, and had tried to draft Harry onto the English team. That had been when Harry had found out Umbridge the bitch had ruined Quidditch for him forever. The first time he tried to play in a match the broom wouldn't leave the ground. He could still fly off the field, but a match was out. He'd never tried since. Now, however, he'd already tested out future magical contracts, and knew they didn't hold. He'd signed one to keep a piece of information Daphne once let slip about unspeakables silent. Harry had had no trouble telling Dudley. (He'd thoroughly enjoyed the baffled look on his face too). Harry _would _be on the Slytherin Quidditch team, if it were the last thing he did.

It was anything but quiet in the dorms, which caught Harry out a bit. The Slytherin personas he expected weren't developed yet. Malfoy and Nott got into a huge debate about who got the bed closest to the bathroom. While they were arguing, and Blaise was mediating, Harry claimed the one in the corner closest to the window. Yes, window. They were under ground, but the dorms, as it turned out, looked out over the lake from the cliffs. Harry could only assume that there was an illusion stopping the windows from being seen from the outside in. He was amused to note their was even a little balcony, and even more amused when he went out on it and spotted an older Slytherin girl smoking on the balcony four over. Yes, Slytherin was nothing like he expected.

The next morning was a bit of a shock to Harry. Obviously he had been the topic of quite a few dorms over night, and Slytherin, along with the rest of the school, had obviously decided to hate him. People shuffled over taking up free spaces when he tried to have breakfast, and he could hear whispering everywhere he went. It was just as annoying as in his previous first year, but not nearly so nice.

'There, Look, wearing the dark cloak…' (all the school cloaks were black for Merlin's sake!)

'He hasn't even brushed his hair.'

'Look at his nicer clothes, he obviously think he's better than us.'

'Did you see his face?'

'Did you see the scar?'

'Only a Powerful Dark wizard could have defeated you-know-who.'

Harry had to hold back a snort at that last one. He could just imagine Voldemort's opinion on that. It did make Harry pause for a moment. Why had he survived that night? He hadn't really thought about it, but if Lily Potter survived, then there was no sacrifice. And what made Quirrell burn up? Harry frowned to himself internally. His face to the outwards world was blank. He looked back across at the Slytherin table, and everyone who had been staring at him suddenly turned away and put their book bags in empty spots. Harry rolled his eyes. Fortunately he had lots of practice with the school at large hating him. Plus he knew where the kitchens were. With a slight huff he realised he didn't have a timetable. Harry held his shoulders back and his head high and walked quietly up to Snape.

Harry knew Snape knew he was there, but the man didn't look up.

'Excuse me professor, may I have my timetable please?'

'Already looking for special treatment I see.' Snape snarled, however when Quirrell looked up and took interest his posture shifted just slightly. Enough for most people to miss. But Harry wasn't most people. Snape was on the defensive. Harry was surprised for two reasons. One, Harry knew Snape couldn't actively assist in Harry's death, due to his oath to Lily, however the debt to James Potter remained with James Potter, but… Snape didn't know that. But either way, there was nothing involved which made Snape need to defend him exactly. Harry frowned. It was also blindingly obvious that Snape already knew something was up with Quirrell. Harry dropped these thoughts as he realised Quirrell was talking to him.

'A-are you excit-t-ted to ss-start classes Mr. P-Potter?'

'I am, although a little daunted. Those who have been brought up in the magical world have the advantage of years of soaking up little bits of knowledge.'

This raised many eyebrows along the staff table.

'You were r-r-raised by m-mu-muggles then?' Quirrell asked, obviously surprised. Knowing full well that Voldemort was listening in Harry chose his answers carefully.

'Yes. Where I grew up I was protected from all things _magical_, and still are.' Harry knew the slight emphasis wouldn't pass over Voldemort's head. Dark Lord or not, Tom Riddle was in there somewhere, and was more than aware of what muggles were capable of. He would also get the message that he couldn't attack directly. If Harry was really lucky Snape might realise the message too. He shared no love for his muggle father, as far as Harry was aware.

Turning back to Snape Harry found a sneer on his face. _Obviously not_ Harry thought, but just smiled his fake innocent smile, making Snape narrow his eyes further. He reluctantly handed over Harry's timetable. Harry nodded politely, then made his way out of the hall and down to the kitchens.

Thankfully, the house elves were completely unbiased against houses, and while a little surprised to find a first year there on the first day, more than happy to provide Harry with breakfast. In fact, Harry got a much better breakfast than upstairs, with lots of fruit and some wholemeal pancakes. The little critters even managed to slip some apples in his bag without his notice.

Harry made it to Transfiguration first with ease. Unlike his fellow first years, the castle was not like a giant warren. Harry knew the Hogwarts castle better than the back of his hand, and much better than any other student or staff member he had every met. On top of all the secret passageways from the marauders map, Harry had found one more, that was only there from five until eleven am, a little courtyard, and a few extra little alcoves. That's not even mentioning the room of requirement and the Chamber of secrets.

Harry sat in the back row of the class next to the isle. Soon the other Slytherins arrived. For some reason Transfiguration and Charms were taught with one house per lesson in first year while all of the other classes for the rest of the seven years were mixed. Harry tried not to be hurt when the rest of his year mates sat in pairs, as far from Harry as physically possible. They were whispering to each other, and at least unlike the rest of the school, Slytherins weren't overly obvious about who they were talking about. Of course Harry knew, but at least he didn't hear his name all the time. Harry was amused to note Malfoy seemed to be complaining about McGonagall, and surprised that Lucius hadn't warned his son about her Animagus form. Harry brought his gaze up to the cat sitting stiffly on the desk and observing him carefully. Harry snorted quietly, then pulled out his text book and some parchment, and sat quietly. When McGonagall finally did reveal herself, almost all of the class gasped. Harry noted Tracey Davies hadn't, and added this to his mental file of her. Despite apparent closeness to the others, she hadn't shared her information.

'Good morning, class. I'm glad to see you haven't come to this class with any pre-conceived notions.' McGonagall took a jibe at Malfoy, who actually went bright red. 'Transfiguration is a highly complicated subject, one which not all of you will be able to grasp.' Her eyes lingered over Crabbe and Goyle. 'I will not tolerate any foolishness, and if I deem you to be wasting my time, you shall be kicked out, and never come back. Do I make myself clear?'

They all murmured their agreement.

'Very well then. The Roll. Miss Bullstrode.'

'Present.'

'Mr. Crabbe.'

'Here.'

'Miss Davies.'

'Here Professor.'

'Mr. Goyle.'

'Here.'

'Miss Greengrass.'

'Present.'

'Mr. Malfoy' Harry noted a slightly pained look as she surveyed Malfoy.

'Here.' He also noticed Malfoy's sneer.

'Miss Moon.'

'Present.'

'Mr. Nott.'

'Here.'

'Miss Parkinson.'

'Here.'

There was a slight pause, and she said Harry's name with a sigh.

'Mr. Potter.'

'Here Professor.'

McGonagall seemed conflicted for a moment, before her lips turned slightly downwards.

'Mr. Zabini.'

'Here.'

That set the tone for the transfiguration lessons. They didn't do any practical magic, and she didn't turn her desk into anything, or show any magic outside of her Animagus transformation. If Harry knew the answer (which he almost always did), and raised his hand, he would be the last one chosen, and she got a slightly constipated look when his answer was so correct. By the end of the lesson Harry was rather frustrated, and actually snarled at Malfoy when he pushed Harry out of the way upon leaving the room. Harry had to be rather careful, as he was an extremely powerful wizard, and on top of that, had kept his powers when he returned to his younger body. Malfoy had actually taken a hurried step back when Harry snarled at him, and let Harry through. It wasn't helping his image any, and McGonagall docked two points for unruly behavior.

Just like in the last time line, each professor had a reaction to calling his name, and with the exception of Flitwick and Binns, it wasn't at all positive. Binns probably couldn't even tell you who Harry Potter was, let alone which student, but Flitwick had been a bit of a surprise. He had done the same as last time, squeaking and toppling off his pile of books at Harry's name. But he'd then picked himself up, giving Harry a huge smile and continuing on. Charms was easily going to become Harry's new favorite subject. Surprisingly Quirrell's response was different too. Other than a slight pause, he didn't react much at all. Sprout outright growled his name and Harry's name hadn't even been called in Astronomy. Harry chose just to ignore this, as he had learnt the starts quite well, as Sirius had told him about them, in true Black tradition, and being Sirius, Harry had soaked it up. The fact was, that despite the unenthusiastic teachers, it was week one, and Harry was already bored. He knew all of this. Occasionally he would pick up on a small fact, or have to think for a moment before remembering something, but for the most part, he knew everything the teachers were sprouting, and was having trouble holding his attention span.

.:You will just have to get used to it:. Apep had said, as they sat in a small alcove just off the kitchens eating lunch that Friday. His housemates were still refusing to let him sit at the table, and Harry could tell it was frustrating them beyond belief that Harry seemed to be surviving without food.

.:I don't know if I can last until third year. I've already started reading up on Runes and Arithmency:.

.:Well you don't have to do well. But they will be suspicious if you don't at least appear to be studying, and still do so well:.

Harry sighed deeply. It was rather depressing to note that the only class of any interest so far had been history. Harry had never paid attention the first time, so it was still new. It helped that the Auror trainer had been even more boring then Binns, and actually made the ghost exciting in contrast.

.:At least I have potions next. I can't imagine Snape ever allowing a class with me in it to be boring. Horrible yes. Boring no:.

.:This is the smelly professor?:.

Harry laughed, despite Quirrell smelling strongly of Garlic, Apep had designated Snape with the name 'smelly one'. To Apep's strong senses he could taste all of the potion residues left on the man.

.:Yes. He hates me… or rather, he hates my father:.

.:But you hate your father:. Said Apep, obviously confused .:Should this not make you allies?:.

Harry considered for a long moment. He supposed he did hate his father, not that he could even really call him that. He gave up that right the night he let Harry be moved to the Dursleys.

.:I hate my mother as well. Snape loves her:. Harry settled on for an answer.

.:Hmm. Could you cast a scent reducing ward please?:. Apep then dropped the topic. Harry could only be glad.

.:Of course:.


	6. Chapter 6

**SIX**

Potions began almost exactly the same as it had the first time around. Snape made his dramatic entrance, then proceeded with his opening speech. He reminded Harry slightly of Voldemort with all of his dramatics.

'You are here to learn the subtle science, and exact art of potion making,' he began, keeping them silent without effort (even the Gryffindors). 'As there is little foolish wand-waving many of you will not believe this is magic. I don't really expect you to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper to death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.' Harry had to hand it to the man – He had a way with words.

'Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'

Harry didn't even miss a beat.

'Draught of the Living Death, Sir.'

'Let's try again,' Snape didn't even seem to care that Harry knew the answer. 'Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?' Out of the corner of is eye he saw Hermione jump in her seat, hand raised.

'In the stomach of a goat, Sir.'

Snape sneered. 'What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?'

'They are the same plant. They are also known as aconite.'

'Your will address me with respect.'

'Sorry Sir.' Harry bit back his sarcasm, keeping his face perfectly blank of emotion.

'What is the common name for _Ranae Excluduntes_?'

'Frog spawn, although non-magical toad spawn is often referred to under the same title.' Harry had learnt that in Auror training after one of his training partners thought to take on a dragon. As punishment he had been told to brew his own burn solutions and Harry had taken pity on him. If Harry remembered correctly it was O.W.L level at the least.

'Name three uses for Acromantula venom.'

Harry frowned a little at this, but quickly remembered Madam Pomphrey ranting to him after being bitten in the third task. 'I'm not sure, but I think in general spider bite antidotes, in the Derlling bruise balm, and…' Harry frowned again, he couldn't think of another use. 'Sorry Sir, I don't know any others.'

Snape's sneer increased, and Harry noted a triumphant glint in his eye.

He first spun to face Hermione. 'Sit down, two points from Gryffindor for trying to interrupt class.' Harry could see Hermione's heart braking, but noticed her glare was focused just as much on him, as on Snape.

'For your information Potter, there are over thirty uses for Acromantula venom, but I'm sure you didn't bother to read much of the textbook before coming to class. I suppose you think you can cruise through on your celebrity status. I won't have you tainting other more useful students. Move next to Longbottom.'

Harry was seething on the inside, but refused to acknowledge it to Snape. He didn't really care one way or another about his attitude to Harry, but now that he understood why Snape treated Neville like this, he found the man pathetic. Neville was the other child of the prophecy, and if Voldemort had chosen him, then Lily Potter wouldn't have died. Of course she'd be in a permanent ward at St. Mungos, and she wasn't, in fact, dead anyway.

Bullstrode, who had been forced to sit next to Harry after being the last to class, didn't look as if she could decide whether to be pleased or disgusted at having to now share a bench with Hermione. Either way, Harry was pleasantly surprised when Neville gave him a small smile as soon as Snape's back was turned. They didn't have a chance to say much, as Snape didn't like excessive noise, but at least Harry managed to avert any danger every time Neville almost stuffed up. Harry had the added advantage of brewing at an Auror level, so despite Neville's shaky hands and tendency to miss-read steps, they had a potion at the end of the class which would easily make an A grade, and possibly an O. Snape didn't seem to know what to do when they handed their vial in, it was easily the best in the class. He settled in the end for insulting them both, implying they cheated, and deducting two points from Neville for having a messy workstation. Harry sighed, but at least appreciated the fact that Snape wasn't going to be stupid enough to take points from his own house.

Harry and Neville were first out the door, and Neville gave him a big grin, which Harry returned, before opening his mouth to say something.

'You're not associating with that traitor, are you Nev?' Ron's voice made Harry's heart sink.

Harry was amused to see Neville mouth 'Nev' with some confusion. Obviously Ron was trying to sound as if they were on friendly terms. Despite this Neville looked torn, and Harry decided that as nice as it would be to have a friend at the moment, Neville had always struggled to fit in, and Harry wasn't going to make it harder for him in his own dorm.

'What? Because you'd clearly be brave enough to stand up to Professor Snape.' Harry drawled, pulling the attention to him.

'I'm braver than you'll ever be, you slimy snake.' Ron yelled. Harry noticed the other Slytherins had emerged from the room, and were torn about supporting a fellow Slytherin or not.

'Oh yes, insult me with my own house animal, I'm sure I'll be so, _so_ upset with the comparison to something I find commendable.'

Obviously Harry needed to tone down the bigger words a little, as everyone but Hermione seemed to take a moment to swallow that.

'Are you proud? Now that you've let Gryffindor down. Your parents must be rolling in their graves to know they gave birth to the next Dark Lord.' Seamus and Ron had apparently formed a bit of a team. Harry smirked. Unfortunately insulting his parents would not be affecting him at all.

'Oh yes, bring up the orphan boy's parents. Don't worry, when I retaliate mummy will be there for you to cry on. I obviously had to grow up, but does little Ronniekins need to rely on his family so much.'

Harry heard the collective intake of breath, however he would _not_ let his parents be up for discussion. He didn't want to be compared to them even in taunt. Ron had gone bright red after realizing he was taunting Harry about his dead parents, then drained of all colour when Harry used his pet name. Harry knew Ron despised it.

'Do you even care about your parents? Heartless git.'

Harry eyed him up and down slowly, a cool mask in place. 'You're the one laughing at the family that ended the war.'

And with that Harry spun on his heel and headed to the kitchens for dinner. Despite his calm exterior, he was quite cut up on the inside. It had hurt opposing Ron, just as so many other things hurt. For the first time since coming back Harry really second guessed himself. Could he deal with losing old friendships any better than actually losing the friend. Harry sat alone and quiet, ignoring all of Apep's attempts at conversation, but after wallowing for a while he came to the conclusion that it was worth it. Even if some of them hated him, they were alive, and if he had any say about it, wouldn't have to go through half the terrible things they had the first time. Sighing, Harry dragged himself off to bed.

Apep was sulking for the rest of the night, and Harry decided just to study on his bed. He had the curtains drawn, as he had a silencing charm on them, and much to his amusement, Malfoy had been singing in the shower when he arrived. He was just reaching the end of the third chapter on rune alphabets when the wards on his trunk flared. Harry growled, ripping back the curtains and folding himself neatly off the bed.

'Enough.'

The rest of his dorm mates looked up shocked. There had been numerous attempts, by various year groups, and two teachers (although they managed to blend their magical signature enough Harry couldn't be sure who they were) to break into his trunk, and he was getting sick of it. None of the other boys seemed to know what to do being caught red handed.

'Are you going to dob us in to Snape then? Snitch?'

Harry snorted.

'Oh yes, because I'm _sure_ he'd be on my side. I have a shocking ward on there too, which is currently deactivated. As of now, it will be activated. I just thought you should know.'

Zabini and Nott, Harry noted, were looking rather guilty, Crabbe and Goyle were their usual dull selves, but Malfoy looks furious. Harry simply raised an eyebrow at him.

'How do _you_ have such strong wards on your trunk?' He demanded. Harry glanced over to Malfoy's corner. Even if he did have wards, it wouldn't have mattered, as his stuff was in a huge mess everywhere.

'Maybe I have things worth keeping.' Harry drawled.

'My things are worth keeping!' Malfoy bristled.

Harry let his gaze slowly go over the mess before returning to Malfoy. 'Clearly not any worth taking care of.'

Harry left Malfoy spluttering before climbing back into bed.

'Goodnight boys.' He drawled. Only a surprised sounding Goyle called out goodnight back, and Harry heard a whack of something hitting him. Harry sighed and pulled the curtains.

It wasn't until early Saturday morning reading the daily prophet, when Harry realised he never got an invite to Hagrid's for tea. He had been trying to shake off the self-pity, but it crept up on him again in great swells. With most people sleeping in on the weekend, Harry had actually managed to find a seat in the great hall. There was almost a three-meter gap on either side of him. Apparently it wasn't only the Dursley's who thought he might be contagious. The only person, who was engaging with Harry at all, was in a sort of sick-funny way, Ron. Of course it mainly involved insults or rumor mongering, but even with the sneer on his face, Harry was slowly coming to terms with the fact that it was still nice seeing Ron alive, even if it hurt Harry. Harry could kind of see the irony in the difference in interactions he was having with his old friends. Ron had even tried to challenge Harry to a wizarding Duel. Harry hadn't, of course, had anyone to force him into it by offering to be his second, which both Malfoy and Ron had enjoyed laughing about. They would be horrified to realise they were both agreeing.

Not wanting to hang out in the common room or Library, and after realizing Hagrid didn't want to see him, not really wanting to go outdoors, Harry finished his breakfast with a sigh, and decided to at least do something useful with his time. He slowly made his way up to the seventh floor.

As he got off the fifth level staircase, and it moved out from behind him, Harry looked up to find Peeves grinning down at him like a maniac. Harry checked to see no one was around, then stuck his tongue out at Peeves. The poltergeist was shocked for a moment before cackling and pulling out a bag full of chalk.

'Potter, you rotter and snotter oh dear!

joining with the snakes causing fear, fear, fear, fear!'

Peeves sung bounding around Harry and throwing little bits of chalk, but failing to actually hit Harry. Instead of being annoyed Harry just laughed and returned in a sing-song voice much like peeves:

'Peevsie, weevsie Poltergeist,

Nothing more than an oversight.

You taunt and you tease and feel like your devious,

But no matter what pranksters won't take you serious!'

Harry didn't notice the Weasley twins standing in an alcove watching as Harry exploded a bit of chalk in Peeves' hand causing the little devil to be covered in chalk dust. He didn't see them turn to face each other with dropped jaws as Peeves just laughed along with Harry as the two disappeared around the corner, seemingly content in each others company. Harry did feel a lot better, however, after parting ways with Peeves just before the room of requirement, having pointing out to Peeves that he'd seen Filch cleaning in the dungeons near the Bloody Baron, meaning there was no one guarding the gobstone club on the third floor, or the students lounging by perfectly splash-able lake water. Harry had always wished he'd got Peeves on side much earlier, throughout all his sneaking years, and intended to learn from his past lessons.

Taking a calm breath, Harry paced back and forth three times thinking of a place to hide something. He was more than a little bit relieved to see the door appear, and quickly made his way into the vast room. He had never really considered it, but one day Hermione had bemoaned all the things that they had lost by using fiend-fire in this room. Of course it hadn't been them that cast it, but she had a point. Harry had every intention of collecting the horcruxes by the end of his second year at the latest, so that, in the worst case scenario, if Voldemort made it back, he wouldn't have to waste time with a maniac around while going on his treasure hunt. It took a lot longer than Harry had thought, to find the diadem again, as he forgot he himself moved it to the bust in order to find the half-blood prince book easier. Once he had the diadem incased in a silk bag (And wouldn't it have been nice to know this dampened the effects the first time around!), in a silk bag, in a silk bag, Harry put it in his breast pocket, and moved on to other things.

Harry knew the process of sorting things out in here would be long and tedious, however even just spending a few hours searching for the diadem had brought up some treasures. Harry first looked for a few trunks. They were mostly empty, or falling apart, but Harry was amused to find one full of porn magazines, ranging over a few years of subscription, and another with a collection of quite a few wands. How on earth you could just loose your wand, Harry wasn't sure. None of the wands worked particularly well for Harry, and two of them were no better than waving around an old stick, but he kept them thinking of how frustrated Sirius had got using his great uncle's wand. Maybe they would work for him. He found a lot of interesting books, which he placed all together in one suitcase, intending on shrinking it down and taking it with him, and quite a few piles of essays from past students. He found one particularly amusing assignment sheet from divination predicting Trelawney going on a grand adventure to fight a nundu, and accidentally getting eaten by a unicorn along the way. It was written in first person perspective too.

Harry also found some more useful items, including an invisibility cloak. The enchantments had begun to come undone, and it only made him partially translucent, but Harry kept it incase they could be fixed. He searched out the brooms they had escaped on his past life, testing each out before selecting the best one and shrinking it down, but leaving the rest, because despite the diadem being gone, he didn't want to risk a future where he burnt to death because he'd removed the brooms. He also found quite a few purses of money, one of which tried to bite his hand of when he reached in, and another that must have been blood-warded like his as while he could put his hand in and pick the coins up, they wouldn't pass out of the top. He also found a large collection of crystals and crystal balls. This was almost the best find for Harry, as in amongst what was mostly quartz, there was a red stone that looked quite similar to the philosophers stone Harry knew to be sitting on in the third floor. It was a little more orange, than blood red, and wasn't the same shape, but it was roughly the same size, and if it came down to it, Harry was pretty sure Voldemort hadn't seen the stone before, just heard a description.

Harry had brought a packed lunch (a giant affair thanks to over enthusiastic elves) and called Apep back. He'd let him off to hunt for mice and a chance to stretch out after being wrapped around Harry or coiled on top of his hangings all the time. The material above the four-poster was the perfect place for him in the dorm when Harry was changing, showering or sleeping, but didn't give him much room to move around. He was certainly in a good mood when he came back, and was telling Harry of all the things he'd found.

.:There is a snake plant in the back corner, by the broken grandfather clock, did you know?:.

.:Snake-plant?:.

.:I am not sure of it's name. It likes the damp and strangling things:.

.:Devils snare!?:.

Apep gave the best impression of a shrug a snake could manage. .:I do not know it's name, but it disliked my venom as much as any animal I've met. Oh, oh, and I found a large warming stone in an old lizard tank! May I have it?:.

.:How large?:.

.:One eigth of my length:.

Harry frowned. .:It's a bit big:. Harry could see Apep's disappointment, and felt bad. .:We shall leave it near the door, and if my room mates find out about you, then we shall retrieve it:. This seemed to please Apep quite a lot.

.:That would be nice. Do you think they will find me?:.

.:Yes. It is too little to hope you won't be seen in seven years. I can only hope that their reaction won't be too bad:.

.:They should respect me!:.

.:They should revere you, my dear, but they will be scared:.

.:Puny humans:. Apep dissolved into unknown hissing noises of discontentment. .:Will you be in trouble for having me?:.

.:Possibly, but I am glad you decided to come with me. I didn't realise how lonely I might have been:.

It was true, Harry felt like Apep was his only friend at the moment. He had been to visit Hadwin in the owlery twice, but he didn't have anyone to send letters to, and he missed Hedwig quite a lot. He still stood by his choice to leave her in the shop, as if it hurt seeing Hadwin, it would have hurt much more seeing a Hedwig that wasn't _his_ Hedwig. Harry did realise that his relationship with Apep might have been one of the deciding factors that made the hat put him in Slytherin, but unlike the rest of the school Harry had come to terms with his house in a surprisingly short space of time. Harry finished up his roast beef sandwich and decided to do some more exploring. He let Apep show him to where the devil's snare was (and it was devils snare). He was rather glad to see it was only a small plant, but despite feeling a little bad about it, he carefully burnt it to a crisp. The smell of fire in the room had him a little wary, but he just heavily soaked the area with water afterwards and soon felt okay. He did make a mental note to find out what spells could be used to counteract or fight fiend-fire, next time he was in the Library.

After Apep showed him a few more things in the room that he had found, they actually started playing a bit of a game. They would each pick a letter and a colour, and had five minutes to each go off and find the oddest thing they could that was that colour and started with that letter. This brought up some funny things. Harry managed to find a bright pink rocking chair that sang when you sat in it, and a psychedelic patterned umbrella, which changed patterns like a kaleidoscope as you walked around. Apep won the day however, with the discovery of a small nest of creatures in a jar, which Harry was ninety percent sure were actual Nargles. Despite loving Luna to death, he never truly believed in most of her creatures. However the fluffy little creatures looked exactly as she had drawn them for Harry, and after nearly half an hour scrounging around, he found a butterbeer bottle (with half a crate of butterbeer and a bottle of firewhisky wrapped in a Hufflepuff flag – who would have guessed), and found that the creatures shied away from the corks. Harry was inordinately pleased with this, and decided to end the day on that positive note. The two made their way back to the entrance, where Harry had left the trunk full of books and other goodies. He quickly shrunk this down and popped it in his pocket, whistling a happy tune as he made his way back to the dorm. The only thing he hadn't shrunk was the jar of Nargles, which he warded against anyone else touching, but kept beside his bed.

More than one Slytherin looked at him oddly, as he came back to the dorm in such an obviously cheerful mood, however Harry just ignored them all and headed up to bed. He was surprised at how tired he was from the day, and decided to spend Sunday finishing off homework in the common room. He followed up with this plan, and other than going to the kitchens to pick up food for the day, Harry spent the whole day sitting at a desk in the corner finishing off homework. He was finding it incredibly hard to finish anything, as he had to do a few drafts to make sure it sounded like an eleven year old. Zabini and Nott came over at one point, and they almost had a civil conversation, until it degenerated into insults once Nott laughed about how long it was taking Harry to finish his homework. This occurred, Harry noted, only after another Slytherin was paying attention to what they were doing, which made Harry suspect that they weren't actually as against him as he'd thought.

He had completely forgotten to take the diadem out of the pouch he had strung around his neck, and was glad to note that with the three layers of dampening, he didn't feel any effects at all.

The next week passed in much the same way as the first, and surprising himself, Harry found him settling in to Hogwarts life being hated. The only real change was that the teachers seemed to decide it was free reign on taking-points-from-Harry-Potter, or in Snape's case, giving detentions, and as a result, any housemates who had been warming up to Harry were soon sneering and complaining about how many points he was loosing them. Harry didn't actually care all that much, but he was annoyed at the staff for their blatant anti-favoritism, and couldn't help but think what it would have done to Harry, had he actually been a first year straight out of the Dursleys. He had never been more thankful for Draco Malfoy being a prat on the train. Despite their point taking, Harry was doing phenomenally well in class (he would have been ashamed if he didn't), however it seemed to be annoying Hermione to no end. It didn't stop teachers from taking points either. In fact, Harry was pretty sure McGonagall was taking so many points off him _because_ he was doing so well, but wasn't doing well _for her_ house.

The first thing that really drew Harry's attention was the notice that went up at the end of the week to say they were having Flying lessons on Thursday, with the Gryffindors. Harry's original plan was to annoy Malfoy into the same situation as before, however that wasn't looking like a viable option. Not because he didn't think he'd be able to manipulate Malfoy, no, that would be easy, but because he was pretty sure he would actually be expelled, not put on the team by Snape. So for the first time Harry actually approached a Slytherin. He'd been purposely aloof from all of them for the most part.

'Are you Flint?'

Flint sent him quite a glare, but Harry was getting pretty used to that response.

'You're the Quidditch captain, and my mentor.' Harry said firmly.

'Don't much care for it, I'll be honest. I don't know what you are doing in our house at all.'

Harry sent him an _innocent_ smile. 'Oh I don't know, I'm sure.' Harry smirked internally as Flint narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

'Get to your point Potter.'

'Thursday first years have flying lessons.'

'So?'

'On Friday, you are going to come and watch me fly. Then you are going to put me on the Quidditch team.' Harry said it without a doubt in his mind.

Flint looked him up and down with a sneer. 'First years aren't allowed brooms.'

Harry smirked. 'I will out fly anyone who wants to give it a go… on a school broom.'

'You think a lot of yourself don't you. What's in it for me?'

Harry smirked on his exterior, however inside he sighed in relief that Flint was actually contemplating it. He did have blackmail material on the boy, but he'd really rather not use it. Or at least, not yet.

'I'll give you twenty galleons if you don't want me on the team after you give me a fair trial.'

'I thought you'd never even seen a game. Flying classes only start this week. Have you even sat on a broom?'

Harry raised his nose in the air, channeling Draco Malfoy at his most prat-ish. 'Just because they haven't had lessons yet, doesn't mean some of us aren't capable of getting around that.'

Flint snorted, Harry was pretty sure he saw the slight to Malfoy.

'I guess I'm willing to strip you of twenty galleons.'

Harry grinned. 'Just so as you know, if I feel like you think I'm good enough, but don't take me, I'll never fly on the Slytherin team. Consider that carefully when you make your choice.'

Harry was aware he had sounded like a right prat, but Slytherin seemed to be full of the right masks, and Harry had decided almost as soon as he really registered that he'd been put in Slytherin, that if he was going to be in the house of snakes, he was going to be at the top. That would include oozing Slytherin behavior. Despite almost the entire school being against him, Harry had yet to let his Slytherin façade slip.

Thursday came quicker than Harry expected. His house still hadn't let up on the exclusion front. Every breakfast, he entered the great hall, walked the length of the Slytherin table watching as students rushed to cover empty places. Every morning he paused at the end, made eye contact with Snape, then walked back out of the hall without eating. He had made sure no one saw him go to the kitchens, and that no one ever saw him with food too. This was mostly to get to Snape, who was treating him even worse than after the time Harry had seen in his pensive. Harry spent at least four nights a week in detention with Snape, and usually at least one other with another teacher. It was slowly beginning to take a toll on him, as it made for very long days, but Harry refused to break. Harry's lack of acceptance at the Slytherin table for meals had been noticed by pretty much everyone, after about the third day. There were so many rumors going around that Harry wasn't sure if anyone else had time to talk about anything but him. Only three people had made any indication of caring. Neville was the first. They were still paired up in potions, and Harry was pleased to say there had only been one potion explode, and that was merely a lack of concentration allowing someone to throw in some beetles eyes while Harry was focused elsewhere. Neville didn't talk much in class, but smiled at Harry in the hallways when he thought no one was looking. But after a week of Harry not appearing to get any meals, Neville had slipped him a note that said he could save Harry some food and leave it somewhere for him to pick up if he needed. Harry had just written a note back saying simply 'I'm fine. Thanks.'

Flitwick, who was the only teacher not taking points from Harry, and actively encouraging him in anyway, had called Harry back after class early on.

'I couldn't help but notice you aren't attending meals.'

'I'm rather afraid Slytherin isn't willing to accept me just yet.'

'I could talk to Professor Snape…'

Harry's snort interrupted the diminutive professor. 'I don't mean to be rude sir, but I don't think that would help much.'

'You have to eat!' Harry noticed he didn't even bother trying to defend Snape.

'I am eating. Fortunately, I am a Slytherin, no matter what the rest of the world seems to think of that, and I am quite capable of ensuring my continued livelihood against all odds.'

Flitwick seemed to deflate a little, and was obviously having an internal war about whether or not to say something. Harry had not had much to do with Flitwick in his first life, and was glad to know that at least some people were left without obvious prejudice. Harry just gave him a slightly lopsided grin, before heading out. He was pretty sure he heard the professor complaining to himself that it just wasn't right, which pleased Harry a lot. He wouldn't forget Neville or Flitwick's Loyalty.

The most shocking, however, had been Quirrell. And Harry had even been sure he detected a little bit of Tom Riddle in the conversation.

'You're n-n-not eat-t-ting.'

It wasn't exactly concern, but Harry still found himself staring at Quirrell doing an incredible impression of a goldfish. Once he had finally come to terms with the fact that essentially Voldemort was practically enquiring after his health, his humor had got the better of him. He'd actually burst out laughing, eventually calming down enough to manage a parting shot. 'I am more that capable of simply finding the kitchens.' Quirrell gave him an odd look, but in the end just gave him ten house points for overcoming the odds.

Harry couldn't help but wonder for a while about exactly what was going through Voldemort's head. In the end he came to the only conclusion that would let him keep his sanity: Voldemort must want to kill him himself, not let Harry die of his own accord. Either that or Quirrell was less of a dick that Harry realised.


	7. Chapter 7

**SEVEN**

Harry ate quickly and made his way down to the spot on the lawn where they were having flying lessons (and why didn't they use the pitch!?). He was first to arrive, getting a calculating look from Hooch, but a small nod.

'Which side are Slytherin standing?'

'On the left.'

Harry made his way slowly along the line, but the brooms were all in pretty bad shape. Eventually he spotted one that looked okay on the Gryffindor side, and quickly swapped it for a Slytherin one. The rest of his house soon showed up, Draco bragging about running into a Helicopter out flying one day.

'How do you know what a helicopter looks like?' Harry drawled.

Draco spluttered for a moment, not able to decide whether to continue with his story, or deny knowing about anything muggle. In the end he settled for a glare and claiming he'd found out afterwards what it was. Harry was pretty impressed with the obvious lie.

'Must have been embarrassing for your father getting a letter from the ministry for his son breaking the stature of secrecy.'

'What would you know about the ministry?' Draco replied, but he'd gone bright red.

Harry shrugged lightly. 'I am perfectly capable of research.'

Draco opened his mouth to reply with another snide comment, but the Gryffindors arrived.

'Problem amongst the snakes traitor?' Ron asked with a smirk. The Slytherin's all bristled, but Hary beat them to it.

'Just because Gryffindor's are too rash to understand the delicate art of politics doesn't mean any of us would feel even the slightest bit hesitant in shredding you to pieces and leaving you sobbing on the ground. Now quite child, the big boys are talking.'

Harry ignored Ron's spluttering and turned his back on him to return to face Draco. He was a little thrown off by Draco staring at him like he'd never seen him before. Harry gave him a questioning look.

'We treat you terribly.' Draco stated quietly.

'Yes. I've noticed. Slytherin have been decidedly lacking in their supposed subtlety.'

'But you still defended our house.' Said Blaise.

Harry gave them a patronizing glare as madam Hooch walked up. 'It's my house too, and just because the rest of you seem to be breaking the rules of Slytherin because Snape has a grudge, doesn't mean I have any inclination to follow you all to your doom.'

'Well, what are you all waiting for?' Madam Hooch said, 'Everybody stand by a school broom, and say 'Up'.'

Harry stuck his hand out over the broom with the expectation of it coming to him. It was force of habit after so many years of having his own brooms. Luckily, no one noticed as everyone else said (or yelled) 'Up!' at the same time. Harry got just as much satisfaction out of Malfoy being corrected on his grip as he did the last time too. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten about Neville until Hooch was already counting down. He opened his mouth to say something, but realised Neville would probably prefer not to get called out by a Slytherin, so just winced as he watched Neville float up in the air, then come down with a solid THUMP.

Everybody rushed over to see him. Hooch had gone white, and this time Harry was standing on the right side to see Neville's face.

'I'll take him to the hospital wing if you'd like professor?' Harry found himself volunteering before he could think. As a whole, the class and Hooch turned t look at him in shock.

'What?' Harry complained.

'Maybe it would be better off if someone from his own house…' Hooch started, but all of the Gryffindors wanted to try flying, and looked away.

'Harry's fine.' Neville's small voice spoke up.

'Okay, if you're sure.' Hooch didn't sound sure at all herself, but Harry helped Neville up, then they made their way off together. They didn't quite hear Malfoy's taunt about cry babies, but they were still close enough to hear everyone laughing, and Harry noted Neville turn even paler.

'Well that's certainly one way to ensure you'll never have to stick out training in the winter rains.' Harry said cheerfully.

'That was so embarrassing!' Neville groaned, before going bright red.

'Well at least you did it in flying lessons. They only happened once, it's better than in a class you'll have to do for the next seven years.' Harry smiled.

'Yeah, but I haven't been going so well in those either.'

Harry paused for a moment, trying to think carefully about how to bring up his next point. 'Hey Nev… erm, I heard a rumor going around Slytherin about you.' Harry decided on this one because he was pretty sure Neville would have no way of checking.

'Great.' Neville said sarcastically.

'Its not really my business, but… are you using your dad's wand?'

Neville gripped his pocket for a second, and his posture turned defensive.

'Yes.'

'Your dad was a great man Neville, but the wand chooses the wizard, and while I know one day you will be just as great, it's physically impossible to be him, because he never had a bit of your mum.'

Neville gave him an odd look, but they reached the hospital wing at the same time, and madam Pomfrey started bustling around. Harry noticed she kept eyeing his scar. He hadn't realised at the time, but Pomfrey had got a lot of credit as a healer for getting Harry Potter (and the first ever AK curse scar) as her patient. Keeping with his Slytherin mentality, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to give away that advantage for free. Unfortunately, other than trying not to get hurt (which Harry didn't have a good track record of), Harry couldn't think of any way around it.

Harry made sure Neville was comfortable (or as comfortable as one can be after taking skel-e-grow), then headed back to class.

When he arrived he noticed Ron was missing, and the Gryffindors were looking pissed off.

'Sorry it took so long.' Harry said, when Hooch turned her gaze on him. The rest of the class were in the air, so Harry simply grabbed a broom and joined them. He hadn't thought about it (still thinking about going to get an overall medical exam somewhere outside of Dumbledore's influence), and hadn't realised he'd 'never' been shown what to do. The Gryffindors were mostly glaring, but both Hooch and the Slytherins were all giving him calculating looks. Harry just used years of practice at ignoring them, and put on a bored face. The rest of the lesson went smoothly, if a little boring. They were shown the three Quidditch balls (bludgers staying in the box, and a practice snitch that came back when you called), and then played an overly complicated game of catch. Hooch complimented Harry on his technique several times, and reminisced over James' Quidditch days for the majority of the lesson. Naturally this pissed almost everyone off, especially the Gryffindors, Seamus kept loudly pointing out how Gryffindor James was in behavior. Of course, every time someone pointed this out, it actually made Harry feel better about being in Slytherin.

After the lesson Harry ignored the fact that the Slytherin's formed a group cutting him out and asked Blaise what had happened.

'Draco found that crying kid's rememberall, Weasley had a problem with that and they took the argument in the air. Weasley started to get violent, so Draco threw it. Weasley went after it but crashed. McGonagall seemed to think he had a broken shoulder.'

'Where was Hooch, and what was McGonagall doing there?' Harry demanded.

'Hooch was chasing one of the Gryffindor girls… Brown, I think her name is. She lost control of her broom and it went soaring over the forest. McGonagall was just passing.'

'Right. Thanks.' Harry said and was about to turn away when something registered. 'Hey, you guys all shared tutoring lessons with Neville. Not 'that crying kid'. You know Weasley's name, is he honestly more important to you?'

Blaise went a bit red, but just shrugged, and moved back in with the group.

'Where is Neville's Rememberall? What happened to it?' Harry addressed Draco.

'Smashed when it hit the wall.' Draco said proudly. Harry gave him a sarcastic look, then muttered 'typical' while turning away. They had a break until Defence that afternoon, so Harry hurried back to his dorm to write a letter. He couldn't do much about the other Gryffindors, but Neville had been nothing but nice, and even stood within the boundaries of a pure-blood. He wasn't loud enough about his opinions for it to have offended the Slytherins, so Harry wasn't about to let them get away with Bullying him. Besides, last time Harry had been a bigger target for them, so Neville only got minimal crap. Harry felt a bit guilty about not being there to shield him. He knew it was ridiculous, but he'd long come to terms with the fact that he had a hero complex.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_We have never previously met, however I couldn't help but want to pass on a little advice for such a promising son, as the one you have. There was a slight disagreement with the Gryffindors (perfectly understandable) in flying lessons this morning. Unfortunately, Draco set about keeping Slytherin honor by striking back with a possession of Neville Longbottom. While I understand that Gryffindors needs to be put in their place, I can't help feeling the most Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom isn't the safest place to start publicly. I wouldn't bring it up, only the House of Potter has long stood with that of Longbottom, and I feel it would be going against my blood not to defend it. I am quite sure that Madam Longbottom will be quite distressed to find her gift destroyed, however if a private reimbursement occurred, then the offense would be easily dropped, and the school (and any detentions impending against Weasley) would continue as they were, ensuring the maintenance of Slytherin honor._

_I hope I haven't been overly presumptuous,_

_Harry James Potter_

_Heir to the most Ancient and Noble House of Potter._

_Heir to the most Ancient and Noble House of Black._

The whole letter was presumptuous, rude, and filled with little barbs, not the least of which was that an eleven year old was doing the advising. But Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be able to do anything against it, because it _had_ been a stupid thing to do in public, and the Potter/Longbottom alliance went back almost to the time of Merlin. Being the Heir to the Black's was just an extra little taunt. Everybody had assumed that it would go to Draco, but Sirius had left a will with the Goblins, and without a trial Sirius had never actually been convicted. While the ministry controlled a lot of things, the Goblins controlled wills and anything to do with assets, and they considered Sirius' will to hold. Adding the title also had the advantage that Lucius would probably go looking in to Sirius' trial. And if Harry knew Narcissa like he thought he did, she wouldn't be happy about a Black not getting a trial, blood-traitor or not. Harry couldn't actively do anything to get Sirius out of jail until it had happened in the original timeline. Not until he got access to Lupin. Harry had found out that Lupin contacted Dumbledore when Sirius escaped, and before that no one knew where he was and owls wouldn't reach him.

As soon as he was done Harry collected his things for Defence, then headed via the kitchens to the owlery. Hadwin seemed very pleased to finally be delivering a letter, but stayed to share Harry's lunch on the steps leading up to the tower on the way back.

On his way back to charms he came across an older group of Gryffindors. Harry didn't think they were going to do anything, however just as he reached the top of a set of three stairs one of them sent a tripping hex. Harry let out a small yell and only just managed to partially grab the handrail, scraping his wrist all the way down and landing heavily on one leg. He looked up to find the Gryffindors laughing, and a nearby group of older Slytherins sneering at him. He refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing him hurt, so just ignored it and climbed to his feet picked up his bag and walked to class. As soon as he was round the next corner he dumped his bag on a bench and assessed his injuries. He was pretty sure his leg was going to bruise, and both wrists hurt, but the scrape was the worst thing. He sighed and just used a spell he knew to clear off the blood. Continuing on his way to Defence with a slight limp.

Quirrell didn't outright coment on Harry's limp, but gave him a questioning look all the same. Defence was with the Ravenclaws, so went by relatively smoothly, except for glares got when Harry answered questions. It seemed Quirrell (or more likely Voldemort) had taken a strong interest in what Harry was learning in Defence. Harry could understand that, in a way, but made sure to appear great at theory and terrible at practical's, not that there were many of those. First year didn't matter all that much, only OWL's and NEWT's really did anyway. He was amused to see that Quirrell favored asking Slytherin questions and giving out high amounts of points. Harry himself earned almost twenty in one lesson. _Can't help but favor your old house Tom?_ Harry mused to himself after getting the last four points as the bell rang. As such he was in a much more cheerful mood heading down to dinner. He did his usual lap, noting Flint was giving him odd looks for some reason, but after no one allowed free space anywhere for him to sit he just gave a light shrug and headed to the kitchens.

The next morning Harry got up extra early and headed out to the Quidditch pitch. Flint, and three others who Harry vaguely remembered from as being in seventh year were waiting for him looking cold and unimpressed.

'This better be worth it Potter.'

'Of course.'

'You got your twenty galleons?'

'Yeah. Shall we make it each?' Harry shrugged, eyeing the other three. Their stoic masks dropped for a second, but immediately returned with a glint in their eyes.

'You're quite cocky aren't you. Got a school broom?'

Harry nodded, having picked one out on the way down.

'What do you want me to do?' Harry had told him the night before which position he would _have_.

Flint laughed coldly, putting a hand in his pocket, and pulled out a snitch.

'Catch it.' He released it.

Harry gave him a light shrug, then took off. Despite knowing the snitch would be easier to catch if he managed it straight away, as their magic was based on the skill of the players, and would take a moment to warm up, Harry did a few practice moves first, testing the maneuverability of the broom and how long it took to pull up. He did this quite close to Flint, never even looking around for the snitch. He hovered a moment in the air, caught Flint's eye with a wink, then shot straight up and began to search. He was focusing on the opposite end of the pitch, when suddenly he heard a whoosh from behind. On instinct he dropped a few meters, causing the bludger to miss him by about a foot. Harry grinned. The fact that they had let them out showed they were actually taking this seriously. It only took him a few minutes to realise that they had been charmed to follow him like Dobby's bludger. He grinned for a bit, flying evenly around until one of the bludgres was trailing him. Then, when he'd got it high enough, he dropped out of the air like Wronski feint. The bludger followed, and when Harry pulled up close enough to the ground to brush his toes on the grass he got the satisfaction of hearing both a bludger crack behind him, and the Slytherin's calling out just before he pulled up in fear. His smile only grew when he noted a glint of gold near the goals at the other end of the field. A minute later he grabbed the snitch, flying over the four Slytherins, then dropping out of the sky again, pulling up in enough time to slide lightly off the broom on to the pitch. Harry slammed the snitch into Flint's hand, then raised one eyebrow.

'This is really the second time you've been on a broom?' The tallest Slytherin (Harry was pretty sure he was a chaser) demanded, sounding shocked.

Harry smirked, but said nothing. It wasn't, of course, but Slytherin didn't give up on any advantage they had unless they had a good reason. And when in Rome…

'Where is your current seeker?' Harry asked, he remembered the small black haired boy that had lost his spot to Draco the next year.

'Higgs is terrible anyway, but unless there is someone better in second year, then he was our best spot.'

Harry grinned. 'Was.'

Flint was circling Harry much like Oliver Wood had the first time they'd met.

'I suppose you've got the right build.'

'Got the right… did you SEE HIM FLY MARCUS!?' The blonde yelled again, waving his arms about.

'Yes Julius, but that could have been a fluke.'

Harry snorted. He had always been a bit unsure of himself, and still was at a time-age of twenty seven, but not in Quidditch. In Quidditch he was up there with the best.

'Marcus I want to win.' Julius said flatly. 'Gryffindor have lost Wea- Charlie, but the rest of their team are solids. They might even have a seeker who is good, but never tried out while Weasley was playing. This is my last year, and I need that cup in order to have a better chance at trials.'

'Snape isn't going to like it, and we haven't got a broom.' Flint stated.

'Snape will try to fight you,' Harry agreed, 'But I have a solution to the broom issue.' He'd dropped his smug voice once he heard Flint's tone change to be on Harry's side.

Flint eyed him warily again after Harry's sudden shift in character, 'I'm listening.' He drawled.

Harry grinned. 'Well the rules say that first years aren't allowed to _own_ brooms.'

'So?' The last and most bulky Slytherin asked.

Harry's grin turned sly. 'There is nothing saying I can't fly on someone else's broom.'

The four older Slytherins looked across at each other, smirks growing.

'We'll run it by Snape before we drop names.' Flint said, sounding like he didn't like it, but would do it anyway.

'So I'm in?' Harry confirmed.

'You had better be at every training session Potter.' Flint practically spat Harry's name, but Harry didn't care. He was on the team!

Harry returned to the common room separately to the Quidditch boys, having decided that no one outside of the team would know about Harry until the first match. Harry expected this to be somewhat like the first time no one was meant to know, however he'd underestimated Slytherin House's capability for keeping secrets when it was an advantage to them. The school soon knew that Slytherin had _someone_ new for their seeker, after Flint ran trials and announced at the end that no one there had been selected for the spot. Snape obviously knew too, and wasn't pleased about it if the increase in taunting and detentions was anything to go by. That being said, Harry noticed that he wasn't getting ay detentions on the nights of Quidditch practice, so Snape had obviously been talked into giving Harry a shot by the team. At the first practice the two new recruits were annoyed at Harry being on the team, but by the end of the first session they were actually being visibly keen. Harry was a bit surprised that Erebos (call me Rebo!) Nott didn't tell Theo, but the secret remained tight-lipped.


	8. Chapter 8

**EIGHT**

The next week flew by and even though Harry still couldn't get a seat at the Slytherin table (something the other teachers had finally noticed, but done nothing about), He was on good speaking terms with the Slytherin Quidditch team. Before Harry noticed, it was Halloween.

It was odd, being in Slytherin. Half the time Harry saw what he had seen all his original years; a group of snot nosed jerks. But half the time (and it was actually half, not a portion) Slytherin completely surprised him.

The dorm wasn't usually quiet in the mornings, as they were all actually morning people, and usually there was some good-natured bickering going on. On Halloween, the rest of his dorm-mates were pretty quiet, actually acknowledged Harry, and even offered him first shower. They were being _nice_. It took until he was almost about to leave the common room before he realised why.

'Harry Potter!'

Harry nearly tripped over in shock at being addressed. He turned around cautiously, still a little thrown by the behavior in his dorm that morning.

'Grace Weitts.' Harry returned when he saw who it was.

The elder girl looked shocked that Harry had known who she was, but shook it off. 'I'm sorry about your parents. The house will welcome you at the table today.'

Harry was completely thrown. In all his years at Hogwarts, not one Gryffindor had ever thought Harry should be doing anything but celebrating on Halloween. It was seen a great day of celebration, because of the history of all hallows eve, and because it ended the war. There was some irony in the fact that now Harry no longer wanted to grieve, someone was expecting it.

He eyed Grace carefully. She was, to the majority of the school, just another sixth year. In Slytherin, she was the queen. The Weitts were filthy rich, and produced generation after generation of masters in their chosen fields. Grace was looking to be one of the youngest Charms mistress in over three hundred years (she would do it too, harry knew). Both her elder brothers had achieved theirs in Charms and Enchanting. Grace Weitts was who stopped Draco from claiming the top spot until third year.

Harry eventually nodded his head in acknowledgement.

'I'd be honored.' He wasn't stupid. Despite being royally pissed off that he couldn't just eat in the hall every meal, he wasn't ready to take on Slytherin. It would be political suicide to do anything but accept. Harry's mind was racing though, and he decided to take advantge. The Weitts had been loyal to Voldemort, Grace's uncle was even in Azkaban.

'Sorry about your leader.' Harry said, and managed to sound sincere. There was a huge indrawn breath, as Grace hadn't chosen a particularly private spot to talk. 'May I walk you to breakfast?'

Grace had been included in the shocked breath, but like any good Slytherin leader, recovered in record time. 'That depends on what you meant by that last statement.'

Harry kept his face perfectly blank, but looked her in the eye. 'I meant what I said. Death of any form is a loss.'

'Including the death of the Dark Lord?' This time one of Grace's circle of followers asked, and both Grace and Harry gave matching sneers. Grace beat him to answering her.

'If you don't know when to use your brain about what should and shouldn't be said aloud, then simply keep your mouth shut at all times.'

Harry appreciated the sharp cut down, but decided to answer anyway. 'I can't imagine we would have been on the same side, but he was obviously a strong leader.'

He seemed to shock the house again. 'You are a strange wizard Harry Potter.' Grace said, giving him an odd look.

Harry merely nodded, and offered his arm.

If he were actually eleven, leading a sixth year to breakfast would have been strange, but he was used to this from many, many boring ministry functions. They talked of nothing in various forms as they made their way to the table, and while Harry got a few odd looks from students in other houses, it was nothing on the look Snape gave him when he sat Grace down, then circled around the table to sit opposite her.

The whole thing was a political move. Once Harry had left school, he had been thrown in the deep end of politics, and made his fair share of errors. It wasn't until Luna introduced Harry to Daphne Greengrass that he'd managed to find his feet at all. But it couldn't be said that he wasn't a fast learner when he wanted to be.

Harry had chosen to mention Voldemort now because he knew Voldemort would be coming back, and that when he did he would be stuck in snake territory. By that time, he wanted the Slytherin's so used to being comfortable discussing dark things around him that they would let things slip. He had also said it to call attention to his part in ending the war. Firstly, not all the Slytherins were dark. That was a misconception. Most of them were, but quite a few families were grey, unnamed, and a few even light (albeit with open minds). Secondly, Dark, Grey or Light, nearly every Slytherin wanted power, and with Harry Potter's name, came political power. Harry wasn't about to let that slip. It probably helped that he was still furious every time he thought about Lily and James, and was more than happy to exploit their supposed deaths.

Harry held his own throughout the whole breakfast conversation, and actually managed to make Grace Weitts laugh a few times. That being said, even though he could do politics, he had never enjoyed it very much, and was more than happy to escape to Herbology in the morning. They had Herbology with the Ravenclaws as well, and like defence, the Ravenclaws didn't take kindly to Harry knowing all the answers, nor were they as good at the practical work. Even in his first life he'd been quite good at Herbology. Petunia had made Harry take over care of the garden when he was four (sans the mowing, which had to wait until he was tall enough to reach the mower handle at age six). Despite this, and like cooking, Harry actually liked gardening, and his little cottage had had a great magical garden that had even made Neville envious on occasion. Although that had been more to do with people gifting Harry rare plants once it became known he was mildly interested.

Sprout had a frown on her face every time she gave Harry points, but she was fair, and called on him evenly, and gave him the same amount of points as awards. They were repotting gladriahdal seedlings today, which had to be about the most boring plant ever. They were one stem, and one leaf, all exactly the same colour and they all grew to be exactly two feet high. The only magical property they had was that the leaf, if dried and crushed, was useful as magical bug repellent if mixed in with other fertilizers. Once a year, on Beltain, they produced a small seed (exactly the same colour as the rest of the plant). As such, the Herbology lesson on them dragged on nearly as much as history classes usually did.

The Slytherins had history before lunch as well, and went dragging their feet. Harry didn't mind so much, but was in a contemplative mood. Halloween was reminding him of the night Voldemort died, and he finally brought his mind to the fact that he hadn't died. _WHY_ hadn't he died? Lily Potter didn't sacrifice her life. If it hadn't been for the blood wards, Harry would be sure that lily wasn't his mother. The wards were based of the sacrifice of a mother's blood. Harry frowned, and almost ran straight into Ron, who was heading into the history room.

'Sorry -…' Harry was about to call him Ron, but realised with a lurch to his stomach that it would be seen as weird to call Ron anything but Weasley. As it was, it made the apology sound odd, and insincere.

'Watch where you're going Potter!'

Harry just nodded, and walked around him and continued on his way to class. He noted Ron's arm was still in a sling, meaning it must have shattered, rather than broken. Normally if that happened it took a week or so to heal (unless you took Lockheart's option and vanished, then re-grew the bone, but Harry advised against it). Despite Ron seeming to be a bit of a git most of the time, Harry was Happy that his old friend had stood up for Neville… or for Gryffindor at least.

Hermione and Harry were the only two paying attention to Binns lecture on the Goblin treaty of 1213. It was surprisingly interesting, as they had been fighting for the right to use Dragons to guard their vaults. Originally they had a dragon for each of their levels of security, with the bigger more fierce dragons guarding the lower levels. The wizard council (pre ministry) at the time had outlawed their use, and the treaty had taken three years to pass through. Now there were a certain number of dragons allowed dependant on the number of galleons in circulation. It was also one of the major reasons behind the distinction of a lot of the smaller species of dragons, as without Gringotts or Lokkaria (A bank which merged with Gringotts in 1468), there were few places for the smaller dragons to live.

Despite Binns' monotone drone, Harry found himself avidly involved in the facts, and didn't notice his surroundings until almost the end of class. The Gryffindors had been passing notes for most of the lesson (including one that got lost when Dean threw it a bit hard, and it went _through_ Binns… who didn't even look up), but eventually Malfoy intercepted one, and with a smug look threw it at Harry's forhead with a laugh.

It was a picture of Harry taking notes, but writing them on Hermione's huge front teeth. There was a big love heart around them, and Hermione was jumping up and down trying to get attention. Harry screwed it up, rolling his eyes, but apparently not fast enough. Hermione, who was sitting opposite him in the isle, snatched it up from where Harry left it on the desk. Harry grabbed her arm with his seeker reflexes and gave her a hard look.

'You don't need to see that.' He tried. There were laughs echoing around the room. Apparently everyone had seen the paper.

'Let me go Potter!' Hermione hissed in a harsh whisper. She glanced at the front of the room, but Binns hadn't noticed that no one was even pretending to pay attention. With a huge tug, Hermione wrenched her arm free, and opened the note. Harry watched as she went very still, then bright red. She too scrunched up the note, but showing much more of her emotions for the whole class to see.

Eventually she chucked it back at Harry, missing him by quite a bit, only causing her to go even more red.

'You're a rude berk Potter!'

Harry merely raised one eyebrow, before turning back to the front of the class and blatantly ignoring everyone for the rest of the lesson. He felt rather bad for Hermione, but getting involved wouldn't really help.

Lunch was odd, as when he made his way into the great hall quite a few Slytherin's left spots open. This got a bit of attention from the rest of the school, as apparently rumor was going around that Slytherin had finally accepted Harry Potter. There was quite a bit of rumor about exactly why that was too. It was mostly about Harry turning dark. Harry slid in between a student he didn't know and the elder Nott. The other Quidditch players were near by, and while they didn't mention anything obvious, Harry easily slid into their conversations. Though he was consciously making an effort to show he could be social, Harry didn't realise exactly how much he was impressing various authorities. Most of the staff were watching him like a hawk, and Dumbledore looked a tiny bit worried beneath his tight smile. Snape was outright glaring, and seemed to have given up on eating in favor of paying attention to Harry's movements. Weitts was watching him, and so most of her circle of followers were following suit, and Harry's easy ways were making an even bigger impression than the conversation from that morning. The only indication Harry got that everyone was paying attention was when he slipped in a subtle taunt about Devlin Raabot's father. Harry knew from the future that Raabot had been smuggling potions ingredients for over thirty years. It was accepted by most of the darker families, but wasn't exactly common knowledge. Harry had done it on instinct, as while the house were accepting him at the table, most of them weren't happy about it. Devlin had made a snide comment about mudbloods and people close to Harry ending up dead or in jail.

'Hmm. Possibly, I'll be sure to ask your father for some of his rarer specimens then. After all, wouldn't you prefer jail to death?' Harry then turned to return a comment an older student had asked about muggle cars. Harry had been completely oblivious to the shock on many people's faces, well concealed or not; he was distracted by explaining about muggle things to the pureblood elite. Slytherin surprised him again by showing curiosity about muggles, even if it was only to find out what they were capable of. It wasn't until he was almost at the transfiguration room that he realised that he shouldn't have any idea about Raabot's father's potions smuggling. However, after some consideration he shrugged it off. Let them wonder about just who was his source; all the better if they had no way of ever finding it.

Transfiguration passed with only seven points lost to Harry (he imagined McGonagall was feeling bad about Lily and James' death day), and it wasn't until Quirrell burst through the doors that Harry even remembered about the troll. He swore at himself mentally, then quickly scanned the Gryffindor table. Hermione was missing.


	9. Chapter 9

**NINE**

Harry cut backwards as the Hufflepuffs and Slytherin's crossed paths, then joined the Ravenclaws for a bit until he'd made it to the girls bathroom. It had taken him a little longer to shake the Slytherin's and all hope of getting to the troll before it reached the bathroom were cut out when a scream met him at the top of the stairs. Without a thought Harry threw himself through the door into the girls bathroom. Hermione was huddled under a sink tears streaming down her face to scared to move.

'REDUCTO!' Harry yelled, causing the sink next to him to explode, and drawing the troll's attention.

'MOVE!' He yelled, trying to get Hermione to edge towards the door, but while she obviously registered that he was there, she was giving a blank frightened look and not moving.

'Stupify! Contusio! Hebesde! Hermione MOVE NOW!'

She finally seemed to come back to earth and began sliding along the wall closer to the door. Harry cast another reducto at the opposite wall, causing the troll to look at it in confusion, then bash it for good measure. Unfortunately at that moment Hermione slipped on a loose tile and went crashing to the ground, catching her forehead on the sink. The troll turned and raised its club. With a strong sense of desavu Harry raised his wand again.

'Wingardium Leviosa!'

The troll swung its arm down, and would have hit Hermione full on, except its club was still dangling in the air above it. There was a moment pause, where all three of them stared at the floating club in silence, then Harry let it drop with a resounding THUNK, knocking the troll out cold.

Hermione and Harry stood staring at each other from opposite sides of the troll, before she finally spoke.

'Some of those were sixth year spells. You did them way to fast.'

Harry could see her mind working furiously behind shocked eyes. He looked down at his wand, then back at Hermione, noting a deep cut in the middle of her forehead. Their eyes met, and Harry gave her a regretful look.

'I'm sorry Hermione.'

'Sorry for wha-'

'Obliviate.' Hermione's eyes glazed over for a moment, in which Harry cast a quick wingardium leviosa on the nearest broken shard of door, before stepping quickly forward and starting to examine Hermione's head.

Not a moment too soon either, as four teachers came rushing in to see what the noise was. Professor Quirrell gave a strong whimper, before sitting down on the nearest toilet seat clutching his heart. Harry gave him a brief speculative look, but it was gone before anyone could really catch it. Snape stepped over the broken door to examine the troll.

'It's dead.'

Harry supposed the three mental hits before the club hit it had done too much damage. He eyed it wearily.

'I think Hermione has concussion.' He offered. Snape and Flitwick turned and opened their mouth, but McGonagall got there first.

'What on earth were you thinking of? You could have been killed!' Harry noted with a slight jab that she seemed to address the second bit mainly to Hermione. It was another moment where Harry tried not to be hurt, but still was anyway. Apparently it showed more than he thought.

'Are both of you okay?' Flitwick addressed Harry.

'Hermione hit her head pretty hard on the sink just before I got the troll.'

Quirrell let out another whimper. Harry turned to him with a blank face.

'Exactly how, may I enquire, did an incompetent first year, supposedly manage to kill off a fully grown mountain troll?'

Harry had the extreme urge to say something like 'Pure talent' but refrained. He purposely kept his voice completely flat of any emotion.

'I used the levitation spell from Charms on it's club, then let it drop to knock it out.'

All four teachers turned to gape at him.

'What? It was going to kill her.' Harry gestured to Hermione. 'I really think she needs the hospital wing, she came down pretty hard.' _That, and the obliviate has her pretty out of it combined with the shock._

'Very well, perhaps Flitwick will help Miss Granger to the hospital.' McGonagall suggested. Flitwick seemed reluctant to leave, but eventually his care for Hermione won out.

'Come along Miss Granger.'

Harry helped her to stand, then Flitwick let her lean heavily on her shoulder.

'Oh, I don't feel so good.'

They left, and Harry was left standing at the head of the troll looking blankly down at it. He felt rather bad for killing it really. It wasn't it's fault it had been brought to the school.

'Why aren't you in your dormitory?' McGonagall demanded, just cutting of Snape again, which made him look mutinous.

'There was a rather horrid note passed around history today about Hermione, and then on my way to the feast I heard that Weasley had said something awful to her just after Charms, and that she was up here crying her eyes out. She didn't know about the troll, and all the teachers disappeared before I could get o them. I expected it to be in the dungeons, where, by the way, you sent all the Slytherins!' Harry glared up at the teachers for a moment, and was surprised to see Snape openly look annoyed.

'I came up to tell her about the troll after I saw none of the Gryffindors were going to. I wasn't expecting it, but by the time I made this corridor it was already in here with her and she was screaming.' Haryr gave a light shrug. 'I didn't have time to think, I just did everything I could to stop it from paying attention to her. I was throwing things at the wall so she could sneak past, but she slipped on a tile and it heard her. It was swinging down to hit her when I levitated the club. I didn't mean to kill it, but it was it or her.'

Dead silence rained for a moment as they absorbed that, then McGonagall exploded.

'Fifty points from Slytherin for disobeying school rules that could have had you killed.'

Harry's jaw dropped and he stared at her in shock. Snape spun on McGonagall and started to berate her, however Harry had had enough.

'Fine then.' His voice was harsh and cold, and echoed around the room, making Snape pause, much to his shock.

'You saved a students life Mr. Potter, you do not deserve points taken.' Snape said venomously looking at McGonagall, who did look just the tiniest bit sheepish under his glare.

'No.' Harry spoke in the same voice. 'She can keep her damn punishment. When have I ever been given fair treatment since I was sorted into Slytherin.' Harry addressed Snape, then turned to face McGonagall with a sneer. 'I'll take the cut with pleasure professor. I'm quite sure I deserve it, slimy snake that I am.' His voice oozed sarcasm, and Harry spun and left the three teachers before he could have more points taken for disrespecting a teacher.

Harry stormed all the way back to the Slytherin dorm, where he discovered the password wouldn't work. Harry growled, but glanced around to see no one was there, before hissing a commanding .:OPEN!:. in parseltongue and storming into the room.

He hadn't expected the entire house to be in the common room, having forgotten about the feast.

'Where have you been?' A male voice yelled into the dead silence that filled the room on his arrival.

'And why are you bleeding!?' Someone else yelled.

Harry looked at them blankly, before noticing there was blood running down his arm where a stray flying tile had hit him. He looked blankly back up at the whole house, who were eyeing him in shock.

'I just lost Slytherin fifty points because the troll was attacking a girl and I saved her life.' He was met wit silence again. 'It's dead.' He added, then swept up into the dorm to find a mirror and fix his arm.

Sound exploded behind him, but he ignored it all. He made his way across to his bed, stipping off his robe and let Apep out of his shirt.

.:Are you okay?:.

.:Yes. Your wards worked well. I was sleeping until something hit your side:.

Harry sort of remembered half a door hitting him, but had been concentrating on the troll.

.:But you weren't hurt?:.

.:No I-:.

Harry heard footsteps along the corridor, and pulled his shirt off, covering Apep with a hissed .:Sorry:., then made his way to the bathroom. By the time the boys all arrived he was examining a bruise on his back.

'Are you alright?' Theo demanded. Always one to cut right to the chase.

Harry shrugged. 'I've been worse. I'd be better if I could do something about my arm. I'm not going to Pomfrey.'

'I'll get Mathews. He's training to be a healer.' Draco disappeared back out the door.

'Aren't you all mad I lost us fifty points?' Harry said, running cold water to wash the blood off his arm. There was a surprising amount of it.

'No. They are pissed off about the points, but not at you. Snape followed you in quite closely. He was livid.' Blaise supplied. 'your bleeding a bit above your eye too.'

Harry looked into the mirror and swore.

'Bloody fuck, that was close.' The cut was quite deep, and close to his eye. It wasn't bleeding nearly as much as he thought it should, so he leaned in and had is suspicions confirmed.

'Urgh! Had anyone got tweezers?'

'And why would you be neeing those, Mr. Potter?' Snape's voice answered. Harry managed not to jump (just), and turned to face him.

'Because there is a giant bit of glass in my head. Could you please remove it for me sir?'

Snape looked shocked at the polite tone for a second, but quickly crossed the room and held Harry's head under more direct light. He conjured a pair of tweezers from thin air, then tucked his wand away.

'Hold still.' Harry tried not to be annoyed, as he had been perfectly still from the moment Snape had his wand anywhere near his head.

'Do you regularly find yourself in these sorts of situations Potter?'

'I have always had terrible luck on Halloween.' Harry said dully. It was true, that had never gone away. He only knew Snape had reacted because of a slight tightening of his grip. 'I mean, every year, not just the night… I got hit by a bus last year, dislocated my shoulder and broke my arm.' He offered. He didn't bother to mention that Dudley had pushed him, nor that it was Vernon driving, and he hadn't slowed down. It was one of the few times they had actually taken him to the hospital, although it was three days later after Harry dropped a plate because his arm wouldn't support it.

'Why aren't you in Gryffindor?' Snape demanded, simultaneously pulling out the glass and letting go of Harry's head. Harry immediately moved to the sink to wash out the cut before grabbing a clean wash cloth to cover it.

'Because I'm more suited to Slytherin.' Harry said simply. He let took a bandage Snape had brought off the bench and expertly wrapped his arm and tied it off. He gave Snape a speculative look once he was done. 'What happened about the points?'

Professor McGonagall tried to take it back, but Quirrell supported your choice. I'd like to know how you got him on side.'

Harry almost laughed, but didn't respond. What on earth was Voldemort up to?

Snape acknowledged that he wasn't going to get an answer. 'You have detention with me this Thursday, for being reckless. I have informed the house as a whole why you received the point loss.'

'Thank you professor.' Harry didn't say for what, but Snape nodded and then left.

Harry made his way over to his bed and carefully picked up his shirt and Apep, making sure to keep him hidden. He placed him down on the floor where he could slide under the bed without being seen, then turned to get his pajamas, only to find the rest of the boys staring at him expectantly.

'Explain.' Said Malfoy finally.

'Erm…'

It was much later that harry actually managed to get to bed, he was surprised to find that his gryffindor-ish behavior had somehow managed to earn him respect in the house of snakes. Something he wasn't expecting at all. The girls from his year, who he had barely dealt with at all so far turned up at their door with a flimsy excuse about questions about homework, before they settled in to demand gossip on what had happened. Harry told them what he'd told the teachers, leaving out all the extra magic and the obliviate, even though he knew the Slytherin's would only approve. I had been really nice, as their discussion turned into just hanging out, and for the first time Harry actually felt included in the house.

He exchanged it for feeling guilty once he settled down for the night, pulling his hangings so the only side open looked out the window.

.:I obliviated my best friend:. He whispered to Apep, who seemed to know he was distressed, and had curled up on his stomach, rather than on the hangings above the bed tonight.

.:You did what you had to:.

.:I still obliviated her! I feel terrible:.

.:yes, but you do feel terrible. So that makes it a little bit better:.

Harry nodded a little, but could feel his eyes prickling. It was only a few months in and he'd already done something he never would have considered before. He liked to think the rumors weren't getting to him, but with everyone saying it, and three quarters of the school expecting it, Harry was starting to think that maybe he would go dark. Surrounded on all sides.

Part of that was soothing though. It was being in Slytherin. The common room and the dorms all had parseltongue runes carved everywhere, and they called out to Harry wit dark magic. But it was soothing at the same time, and at the end of a day of being laughed at, taunted and told he was a traitor, it was a relief to come back to the common room and just bask in the snake magic. It was only reacting to him, he had been practicing his magical sight as much as he was before he came back to the past, and now every now and then he could hold the flickers he'd been seeing before. Enough for him to see the magic reacting to him, but simply passing over the others.

.:I hate Halloween:. Harry hissed.


	10. Chapter 10

**TEN**

The next morning proved interesting, as rumor had gone around the school that Harry must have been involved in letting the troll in. He almost went into a towering rage when he found out Hermione had received five points for helping bring down a troll. The memory of her blank look after he obliviated her was the only thing that held him back.

Surprisingly, Slytherin had finally accepted Harry amongst their ranks… and for him losing them points. In every class Slytherins who usually kept quiet were raising their hands and answering questions. Harry had entered the great hall expecting to go back to where he was before, only to have Crabbe (of all people!) wave him over. Slytherin took offense to Harry losing house points, and were taking it out on the school. When teachers were around they were model students, but when they weren't they attacked viciously. There was a good three days of fights before it got out of hand and three fifth year Slytherins and two Gryffindors ended up in the hospital due to a fight. Eventually Snape called a house meeting, and basically told them all to back off while they were ahead. Harry was surprised again when the house listened.

Four days after Halloween, harry got his first distraction. Malfoy's owl swooped into the hall as usual, however it didn't approach the Slytherin table. It soared across the room, landing with a small package, infront of Neville Longbottom. Neville stared at it blankly for a moment, peering beside it across at the Slytherin table. Harry mouthed 'Open it' so Neville returned to do so. The owl then flew across the room, dropping a thick letter and a smaller than usual amount of sweets in front of Draco.

There was a small commotion over at the Gryffindor table, but Harry was focusing on Malfoy.

Draco paled significantly, while reading his letter, but after reaching the end, he looked up at Harry with a sneer.

'Father sends his regards.' Malfoy practically spat.

Harry gave him a quiet smile of acknowledgement, then went back to eating.

Blaise wasn't about to let it go.

'What do you mean your father sends Harry his regards? How do they even know each other?'

'I wrote to him.' Harry said lightly, reaching for a piece of toast.

'You snitched!' Malfoy complained, although he sounded more sulky than angry.

'You broke Neville's rememberall.' Harry replied.

'Weasley could have caught it.' Malfoy was definitely sulking now.

'Are you complimenting R- Weasley's skill on a broom Malfoy?'

Malfoy just glared at him, then came out with something that completely threw Harry for a loop.

'Draco. My name is Draco.'

Harry gave him a very long and hard look, but eventually gave in. 'Draco.' It sounded odd on his lips. He had years of calling him Malfoy.

Malf- _Draco_ and Harry had become quite close, in an odd frienemy sort of way. It had started when Harry supported them at their trials. Harry's voice supporting them kept Draco and narcissa out of jail, and reduced Lucius' sentence. In the end Lucius had died in jail, but the Malfoy's were indebted to Harry, and weren't stupid enough to let their name fall to far away from his. Draco had been a strong political opponent, and worked in an office opposite Harry in the ministry (when Harry was there). They had switched surprisingly easily from arguments to banter, and mutually used each other to vent frustration quite often. It would be odd calling him _Draco_ though. Even when the rest of the world had decided they had the right to call their hero Harry (Harry gave in after Hermione pointed out it was better than the-boy-who-lived-twice), but Harry had always been Potter to Draco, and Draco always Malfoy to him.

'Draco huh? So what did your dad say then?'

_Draco_ glared at him, but shrugged lightly. 'He gave me a lecture n choosing the place of my battles, and on your future strong influence in the Wizengamot.'

'Ah,' Harry said lightly, ignoring the fact that several people around them had just become much more interested in the first years conversation. 'Probably mentioned my affiliation with the Longbottoms and… the Blacks.'

Harry noticed Draco flinch.

'Yes, I imagine he mentioned that once or twice.'

Harry tried not to smirk, and failed dismally.

School became a lot easier once the Slytherins accepted him a little. For the most part they weren't overly kind or talkative with him, but he could eat in the great hall, and the common room no longer went silent every time he entered it. As November set in, so too did the cold weather, and to Harry's relief, he walked in to the common room one night to find the floors were radiating heat. Outside didn't fare so well, and the first signs of winter set in as the morning frost lasted longer into the day, and Hagrid could be seen of a morning defrosting brooms next to the pitch.

The Quidditch season had begun.

Harry found it interesting that being nearly completely a house of pure, or half-bloods, everyone in the house followed Quidditch much more publicly. There was even a betting pool run on matches outside the school. Harry pretended to research up on this, trying to influence his housemates how to place their bets. He could remember mostly who had won, as Ron had nearly always mentioned it, but he did get caught out a few times, enough that Theo and Blaise had a running argument each week whether to agree with him or not. Blaise had declared loyalty, and Theo nearly always voted against. It was surprisingly fun, and while the rest of the house, and even Draco, Greg and Vince (and calling them anything but Crabbe and Goyle was even weird than Draco being Draco) stayed a bit back from Harry, Blaise and Theo started including him in nearly everything.

Somehow, the fact that Harry was on the Slytherin team still hadn't got out to the general student body, but Harry often saw Wood eyeing up any Slytherin who looked even loosely like they fit the build of a seeker. Harry was greatly amused by this as his eyes always passed over the first years with ease. Blaise and Theo seemed to enjoy debating each other on pretty much anything, and spent a great deal of time talking about who they thought the Slytherin seeker was, and why.

'Montague could be Seeker.'

'Montague is a girl!'

'So? All her brothers have been on the team.'

'Flint is a sexist asshole.'

'You're just saying that because he let your brother on the team.'

'Are you calling my brother a girl!?'

'Anyway, Montague is built like a seeker, lean but light.'

'Lean but light? What about when there is heavy weather? No way. Think about Gossenger, or that new up and coming Bulgarian. Krum isn't it? Seekers need a bit of bulk to them'

'Krum is only a reserve, and he is way too young. He'll never make the team. He'll injure out to early.'

'I think Krum will be great.' Harry injected, causing both Blaise and Theo to turn at him looking speculatively.

'Perhaps. But what would you know about seekers?'

Harry tried very, very hard not to laugh. 'More than you'd think.'

'Krum is besides the point.' Theo said, moving on, 'Good or not, Flint won't ever let a girl on the team.'

'Flint is always talking to Carriot. Maybe he's the new seeker.'

'Carriot plays Keeper, and there is no way Bletchley isn't playing. He wants to go pro.'

'Are either of you going to study?' Harry interrupted. This time they were arguing in the library, and two line is Madam Prince was already glaring.

'Yes.' They both replied in unison. Harry sighed and moved slightly down the table from them in the hopes he wouldn't get kicked out with them.

'Fine, so it's not Carriot, but he's the only one left in the upper years.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Seeker's have to be able to put up with a lot of pain.'

'I guess.' Theo didn't sound so sure.

'Seekers have the highest number of recorded injuries out of any of the players.' Harry piped up, unable to keep his nose out of it.

'You still not going to take a guess then?' Blaise asked.

Harry shrugged. 'It would be unfair, there is a vast difference in knowledge on the subject between us.'

'You seemed pretty knowledgeable yesterday when you were listing off the seven hundred ways to commit a foul in a game.'

'It's an interesting sport. And I've been reading up on previous World Cup games, and was up to 1473.'

'Is that where every one of them was committed.'

'Yep.' Harry popped his p. 'Who has Wood got playing seeker?'

'Some chap called Towler.'

'Hmm…' Harry frowned. He didn't know much about keneth, they had barely exchanged two words and he'd never seen him on a broom.

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Towler that tall bloke?'

'The dark haired one, sitting three up from Wood now.'

'He's a bit tall for a broom, could be awkward.' Harry assessed, 'but at the same time he'll have a good reach.'

'So you think Flint will have chosen someone tall?'

Harry eyed Theo and Blaise. 'Flint will have chosen to win.'

At that point they got kicked out, and harry switched the conversation to complaining that he'd never finish his essay. Blaise just gave him a hard look then pointed out he was on his third draft, and no matter what Snape felt, he hadn't given Harry anything less than an O all year. Harry grumbled under his breath, but conceded the point. Of course they didn't know he was actually twenty-seven, and if he came out of school with anything short of a high An average it would be an embarrassment.

Before Harry knew it, it was the night before the first Quidditch match, and he was listening to the general hubbub in the common room trying not to think about the next day's match, nor pay attention to Blaise and Theo, who had given in on figuring out who it would be, and instead settled on deciding (in graphic detail) exactly how the first injury of the season would go down. It wasn't helping Harry's nerves any. As such, he was for the first time in his life grateful when a Slytherin prefect called him over and told him he'd been instructed to take him to see professor Snape.

Harry happily packed up his stuff (He'd been researching warding and runes, and trying to find a reference to what the parseltongue runes in the common room were doing), and followed on curiously.

'Enter.' Snape called, after the prefect knocked on a portrait of a man with a snake around his neck. Harry was so distracted by the snake (which was complaining loudly that everyone always hit it's nose when they knocked), that he didn't realise he was in Snape's office until he was sitting opposite his desk. The prefect was eyeing Harry curiously, after Snape asked him to stay.

'Good evening Sir, have I done anything wrong?' Snape seemed shocked, just like he did every time Harry addressed him politely.

'No. This is about you being seeker.'

The boy next to his breathed in so hard in shock he started having a coughing fit. Both Harry and Snape eyed him curiously before dismissing it as they realised he was mostly able to breathe.

'You have been playing on the school brooms?'

'Yes Sir.' Snape got that shocked look again, but nodded at Harry's answer.

'Would you be able to play on a better broom, or would you need to practice?'

'I have had a go on nearly everyone on the team's brooms. Flint considered switching someone else onto a school broom, but in the end decided I'd still win on either.'

'Careful Potter, you're sounding conceited.'

'Sorry Sir.'

'Indeed. I have spoken with the Headmaster, and have got permission for my first year seeker to borrow an older student's broom.'

Harry was shocked, Flint had been sure they weren't going to be allowed after talking to Snape a month ago.

'Did you tell Dumbl- Professor Dumbledore who your seeker is?' Harry asked curiously. Snape eyed him over.

'I told him I thought the surprise would be good for him.' Harry burst out laughing, surprising both Snape and the prefect with how light and Happy it was.

'I'm sure it will be an interesting shock.' Harry replied diplomatically.

Snape didn't bother answering. 'Pressing on to the broom. Bole,' The prefect jumped, so Harry could only assume that was his name, 'You are going to look after Mr. Potter's broom for him. If anyone asks, it is yours. I have already talked to your father, who will be posting it to you to arrive for breakfast tomorrow morning.'

'Everyone is going to think I'm the seeker professor.'

There was a glint in Snape's eyes. 'I'm sure they will.'

Harry looked Bole over carefully. 'You are nothing like me.' He stated gleefully. Bole started to take offense, so Harry clarified. 'You are much taller, like Towler, and much heavier and stronger, so Towler will expect to have the advantage in drops. In fact,' Harry moved to face Snape assessivley, 'I'd say that out of all the upper years, you are probably as opposite me as one could find in Slytherin.'

Snape smirked back. 'I have no idea what you are suggesting Potter.'

'We will win.' Harry stated.

'I've seen you play Potter.' Snape noted.

Harry hadn't been aware of that, but stubbornly didn't comment.

'Your father will be rolling in his grave.' Snape allowed.

'I heard James Potter was excellent at Quidditch.' Bole sounding a little worried. Harry was still looking at Snape, but smirked.

'He will be rolling in his grave because Slytherin is going to pulverize Gryffindor to smithereens.'

Snape didn't reply, but Harry could have sworn he heard laughter after the portrait swung shut behind them. Harry knew it was at his fathers expense that he'd managed to get Snape to tolerate him, but then Snape didn't know that between him and James Potter, Harry would be firmly on his side.

Harry didn't go to breakfast the next morning, heading to the kitchens early, before any of the other boys woke up, then heading down to the pitch. Flint was there with his own broom, as it was a Nimbus 2000 as well, which is what Harry's would be, so he let Harry out to have a go on it for a little bit just to test the stopping, starting and turning range again. Even though Harry had barely ridden a nimbus since he was in his third year (fourteen years ago), he had never forgotten the feel of his first broom. At the first sign of anyone leaving the castle Harry headed back into the change rooms.

The Slytherin team were some of the first to arrive, followed quickly by Bole and a swarm of Slytherins asking about being on the team. Bole just kept quiet, and Flint wouldn't let anyone in the locker rooms with him.

'I don't think I envy you after the match Potter.'

'Didn't have a taste for the fame?' Harry asked, taking the wrapped package with reverence.

Harry began undoing the strings slowly, and ran his hand down the length of the broom feeling it hum at its first owner.

Brooms weren't quite sentient, but like wands, they were affected by who used them, and once someone truly bonded with a broom, it would never work nearly as well for someone else. There had been a huge sabotage in the World Cup of 1678 when the brooms had been messed with just before the match, switched out for pre-bonded ones, and almost causing a war between France and Finland. Much to the rest of the team's amusement, Harry spent the whole of Flint's speech and last minute tips slowly circling the room on the broom. Soon enough, it was time for the match to start.


	11. Chapter 11

**ELEVEN**

They looked out of the change room onto the pitch seeing Hooch signal them out. Harry couldn't help but let his breath shudder.

'Don't you dare go an get nervous on me now Potter!' Flint growled.

'Not a chance. I'm just taking a deep breath before destiny.' Harry teased.

Jordon started the commentary.

'Welcome to the first match of the season Slytherin versus GRYFFINDOR! Now there has been a bit of a scandal going around the school as the snake nest kept tight lipped about who there seeker was, however this morning one William Bole received a broom-shaped package for breakfast. Secrets out boys!

But down to the good side of things.

This year Wood has an winning line up of Katie Bell, Angela Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Fred and George Weas- OH MY MERLIN! IS THAT _HARRY_ _POTTER_!?'

Everyone on the pitch suddenly went deathly quiet, before whispers broke out then grew in to chatter than yells. Harry blatantly ignored the whole thing, with his Nimbus in hand he eyed off the Gryffindor team. Harry didn't even register the sound of the crowd. All he was focusing on was his old team. They all had various emotions mostly in the shock/horror range, however Oliver was looking smug. Harry managed to catch his eye right at Hooch blew the whistle, and Harry let the calm of the game wash over him.

'AND THE GAME BEGINS! Spinnet starts with the quaffle, passing to Bell, who flies a nice battle back turn confusing Montague and she takes aim, she SC- Oh, no. Blocked by Bletchley.'

The cheers from Slytherin roared, and for a second Harry's heart sank, before he remembered he'd switched teams.

'Gods this is going to be confusing.' He muttered to himself, but was quickly distracted by two bludgers coming at him from either side. Harry dropped hard, one of the bludgers swerving off course to be hit at Oliver by Rebo.

'Ooh, and that was actually some nice flying by Potter.' Lee Jorden admitted grudgingly, as Harry dropped through the middle of the Gryffindor chasers, causing the bludgers following him to pick an easier target. 'Almost took out Angela Johnson – normally quite a fine chaser – and rather attractive too –'

'JORDON!' Harry actually paused to laugh out loud as McGonagall went off at Lee.

'Sorry Professor – anyway, Slytherin is in possession – admittedly their chasers seem to be working better than last year. The surprising choice of Montague changing up the mix – Passing to Flint, back to Warrigton and – No! Slytherin scores. Ten nil to Slytherin, but the Gryffindor team is looking up. – Katie Bell, only a reserve last year, takes the Quaffle – passes to Spinnet, back to Katie, over to Johns- -No, Slytherin have interfered again with another bludgers sent viciously by Nott. – The bludgers is picked up by Fred or George Weasley – Can't tell which – He hits it back at… no he's hit Pott- Wait! He aimed for Potter, who only just dodges – Gryffindor are in possession…'

Harry tunes out of the commentary focusing on the game. It seems that the Gryffindors had taken a strong offense to his presence. For a good ten minutes the twins focused their bludgers solely on him. Harry just dances just out of reach each time; partially to taunt the twins, and partially because he doesn't want to give away his skill just yet. After a while he and Flint crossed paths, and despite his usual brutalism, Flint gave him a worried look.

'You want the boys to get their attention?'

Harry gave him a smirk. 'Slytherin is sixty points up, and I haven't even come close to being hit yet. The snitch hasn't made an appearance, so let me be the distraction. On that note, after the next goal, I'm going to try something. Tell the chasers to ignore everything I'm doing.'

Flint tried not to look too pleased the bludgers would be focused else where.

'Flint looks to be talking to Potter – maybe calling a timeout, as the Gryffindor beaters have been relentless – no, Seems not. Flint joins his team back in play – Gryffindor in possession, Spinnet plucks the quaffle out of mid pass, and ducks under Nott – She passes to Johnson, back to Bell – Bell comes up on Bletchley and YES! Gryffindor scores! – Ten / sixty to the Slytherins – but wait! Is that the snitch?!'

After talking to Flint Harry drifted over towards Towler, who glared strongly at him, and looked smug when Alicia stole the Quaffle.

'What's a small little runt think you're gonna manage up here Potter? Thought you could play with the big boy-'

Harry cuts him off with an overly joyous smile, racing straight past the bigger Gryffindor, cutting as close as he could. The trick to this was going to be cutting Towler's line of sight.

Harry felt Towler right on his tail and grinned, he led him a little higher, only the better for this, then plummeted straight out of the air. Harry made it look like his body was straining for speed, but kept his grip loose, letting the broom know not to out run the other boy by too far. Harry swerved a little, and moved completely in front of the other seeker, blocking out any sign of the snitch… or the ground. Harry could hear Towler swearing behind him, and while he kept a look of concentration on his face just in case, right before the ground came up he let off a satisfied smirk, before putting his full weight behind a ninety degree turn, his toes just grazing the grass on the pitch. There was a satisfying **thump** behind him.

'I DON'T BELIEVE IT! POTTER JUST PULLED A PROFESSIONAL GRADE WRONSKI FEINT!' Lee Jordon's voice echoed around the stands, which were shocked silent for a moment, but not for long, as Flint had passed on his message, and with the distraction, Slytherin scored while Oliver Wood sat gaping at Harry in suspended flight. He didn't even look sideways as the quaffle passed through the left hoop.

Despite feeling a little guilty against his old team, Harry couldn't help but let out a delighted 'Woop!' as the adrenalin of the feint settled in. He hadn't even told his team he could do that. He caught sight of Flint's face as he looped back around the pitch to see what state Towler was in, and noticed his captain looked just as shocked, although he hid it better.

Harry made the full loop of the pitch, eyes scanning for the snitch, until he passed Towler. Time out had been called, and much like at the World Cup against Krum, th Gryffindor seeker could barely be seen from the blood pouring down his face. Harry noticed he was holding his arm pretty gingerly too, and felt a bit of guilt and remorse.

The timeout ran out, and Towler made his way wobbling back on to his broom (much to the protests of Madam Pomfrey), but Harry was completely distracted. At the other end of the pitch, and much closer to Towler, Harry caught sight of the snitch. Harry managed to catch Nott's eye, without taking his eye of the snitch at the other end of the field. It was behind Wood and Towler, who were having a discussion while the Gryffindor chasers were at the Slytherin end.

'What's up?' Rebo Nott greeted.

'I need you to hit the next bludgers you see at me.'

'What?!'

'Trust me.'

'Slytherin will get a fowl… against, how is that even possibl-'

'Never mind that. Here it comes!'

'Johnson shoots – She scores! Another ten points to Gryffindor, making that Thirty / Seventy to Slytherin. – Wait.. what the fugh-'

Professor McGonagall just managed to snatch the microphone out of the way, but Lee, just grabbed it back.

'Slytherin beater Erebos Nott just tried to foul his own seeker! I know there are some obviously disagreements going on in the House of Slytherin about accepting the boy-who-lived amongst them, but isn't that a bit much?'

'Jordon!' McGonagall admonished.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind Harry was amused by the fact that someone had _finally_ spoken aloud about the Slytherin's atrocious behavior towards him. The rest of his mind was too busy being gleeful. He completely ignored the bludgers following fast behind him, as Oliver and Towler both watched with amusement, what they thought was a Slytherin betrayal. He noticed Flint flying towards Rebo looking furious too, but the looks were shocked off all three faces for a second time, as Harry flew at full speed between the Gryffindor keeper and Seeker, actually flying _through_ one of the goal hoops, and snatching the snitch right out of the air from about a meter behind the goals.

McGonagall didn't quite manage to grab the microphone out of reach the second time, and Lee Jordon's cuss echoed around the stands. Only drowned out by the cheers of Slytherin, which swelled up to a huge roar.

Harry flew calmly down to the rest of his team, and slid lightly off his broom.

'Thanks Nott.'

'I thought Marcus was going to kill me you little snot!' Rebo complained, then grinned. 'And I thought I told you to call me Rebo. Now where the _hell_ did you pull that feint from?!'

Harry just winked at him, before being crushed in a mod as the rest of the team landed on him. Harry eventually managed to extract himself from the mosh pit, and came face to face with Flint, who was standing next to Oliver Wood, looking torn between smug, and regretting that he hadn't seen Harry's feint.

Harry made his way over, pulling his usual blank look.

'If it makes you feel any better Wood, Marcus didn't know I could do it either.'

Harry could tell Oliver had been sulking, and that _did_ make him feel a little better, but not enough to admit so out loud. These two had always had a strong rivalry, right up until five years out of school, when they'd been drafted on to the same Quidditch team. Harry hadn't been there, but Ginny had, and she let him watch in a pensive. They had got into a massive argument, involving two broken lockers and a splintered broom, before out of the blue, Flint had grabbed Oliver by the front of his uniform and pulled him into a kiss. Much to everyone's surprise, Oliver had responded not in disgust, but by grabbing him back and spinning Flint around and slamming his back against the wall and deepening the kiss. Harry shook himself out of his thoughts, and back o the present, noticing the glares both were shooting each other. So Harry did what the Gryffindor in him told him to do.

'Good game Wood.' Harry held out his hand. There was a collective intake of breath around them. Oliver eyed him up carefully, but eventually took the extended hand, and the question exploded out of him (probably against his own will).

'Can I have your autograph for when you win Scotland the World Cup?!'

Oliver then went a deeper shade of red than Harry had even seen the Weasleys ever go. Harry just laughed lightly.

The whole match had been surreal. Harry felt a little guilty, as he _was_ technically twenty seven, but gods it had felt good to be playing Quidditch again after so many years not even flying.


	12. Chapter 12

**TWELVE**

There was a serious dynamic shift in Slytherin, which the whole school couldn't help but notice. Harry had gone from being the bottom of the whole school, to sort of reluctantly idolized. The match had helped Slytherin feel vindicated about the loss of 50 points, and weren't so openly against anyone not in their house. Within Slytherin itself, despite the brilliant flying, the house as a whole seemed to have decided to just ignore him, but let him do what he wants. No one moved to block his seat in the hall, and _finaly_ his year mates started talking to him again. Harry happily went along with it, mostly because it was nice having someone other than Apep to talk to. Not that he didn't appreciate his company, but he had been feeling pretty lonely.

Apep, on the other hand, was not impressed, as Harry had to largely ignore him, now that people were around to hear him hiss replies. Harry had eventually come up with the system of clenching his stomach muscles once to mean yes, and twice to mean no… and three times to tell Apep to shut up. (Harry had added that one after his snake kept talking throughout Transfiguration, and Harry had lost ten points because he couldn't follow both conversations, and had chosen Apep over McGonagall.

Before Halloween, it had been obvious that his house wasn't pleased with him for all the points he lost in Transfiguration, but after the bias McGonagall showed with the troll, they were one hundred percent on Harry's side, and McGonagall was son finding herself on a level with the Snape Gryffindor rival in reverse. Having witnessed what McGonagall had done when Harry was Gryffindor, he couldn't find it in him to feel too sorry for her.

On the personal front, Blaise and Theo had taken three days before they were _talking to Harry again_ (except Blaise kept forgetting and asking which other famous moves Harry could pull off, and theo kept forgetting and asking Harry about all sorts of Quidditch information). It wasn't until the Wednesday following the match, that on one of these occasions, Harry got completely thrown off guard by an innocent question.

'Did you hear the seeker-off Rolland and Dias had for the spot on the Spanish team?'

'Theo, just like yesterday, when you asked if I'd listened in to the Welsh versus German match, I will point out the same answer. I. Don't. Have. A. Wireless.'

'No need to get snooty.' Theo drawled. Harry started spluttering, but Blaise stepped in.

'Well you do ask him at _least _once every day.'

'Yes, well. Anyway, apparently Dias did this mad dive, and pulled up with the snitch, but Rolland didn't even go for it. He is claiming a cursed broom, but the officials are sayi-… Are you okay Harry?'

Harry had just gone deathly pale. He had been so happy after winning the first match again, and had compared it to the first time line, thinking he'd still won. Yay! Preserving the old timeline!... But while he had done the same thing, Quirrell hadn't. Theo and Blaise were giving him odd looks, and trying to move the conversation to something that wouldn't distress their friend so much, but Harry couldn't breathe properly. He was suddenly gasping as his system went into panic. It was only three months in – had he changed the timeline that much!? Was Quirrell going to attack some other way, when Harry wouldn't be expecting it, and might not be safe?

Harry couldn't help it, and Apep could feel his panic, and was spitting questions at him a mile a minute.

.:Harry! What is happening? Have you been poisoned? Your breathing is going all funny!... Master talk to me, damn the other brats. _Are you okay?!_:.

Not being able to get any words out, even in parseltongue, Harry gave in and just bolted. He had mostly worked his and Luna's plans so they fit around him being in Slytherin, but if Quirrell… aka Voldemort… aka Tom Riddle, was in the school, and being unpredictable, Harry needed to shuffle his plans. He ran up to the dormitory, ignoring Malfoy, who was reading on his bed.

.:Master! Are you ok!:. Apep was practically yelling,

.:Sorry. Yes… no… I don't know? I've changed the timeline:.

.:You changed the timeline by coming back master:.

Harry was still scrambling through his belongings, and missed the stare Malfoy was giving him as things went flying.

.:Don't call me master. I've told you that. The timeline is changing from what I expected too:.

.:Yes Harry:. Harry couldn't help but feel Apep was a little sarcastic about that response, but let it slide. He kept frantically searching until he suddenly remembered he didn't have his invisibility cloak yet. He would have to wait until after Christmas.

Harry gulped and sat down on top of the mess he'd just made of his things. But just when he thought he couldn't panic any more, he suddenly felt very calm.

.:Have you stopped panicking yet?:.

Harry let out a low chuckle. .:Yes. I think I have. I don't know what came over me:.

Harry suddenly glanced up to see Malfoy staring at him, but was at the other end of the dorm, so thankfully it had just been from Harry throwing his normally incredibly organized stuff in a huge unorganized pile, and not his language skills.

.:I'm a fool Apep:.

.:I know:.

.:Slimy reptile:.

.:Brat:.

Harry snorted, and slowly started putting his things away. Once the shock wore off he realised he was being irrational, and felt very stupid. Quirrell have never opened the chamber of Secrets, and the diadem was safe.

Dragging himself into bed he listened to Apep berate him constantly, until he eventually fell asleep to his familiars hissing tones. Just as he was on the cusp of sleep he felt a great wave of anger cover him _What right did Albus Dumbledore have to gift something to him that belongs to him_.

Harry had done a lot of research into the deathly hallows. Rumors had gone around after the battle, about the elder wand. However Harry had told them all he'd snapped it. He hadn't, he'd put it back in Dumbledore's grave. Harry had to wonder now exactly what the body lying there was… or who. But even if he didn't hold the wand, his own wand had reacted… still reacted. He was the Master of Death, and damn it, that cloak was _his_, not Dumbledore's, and certainly not his father, who _faked_ his own death.

The wait for Christmas dragged on for Harry. Every hour seemed to take twice as many to complete, and even when the castle suddenly found itself covered in a thick blanket of snow in mid-December, Harry didn't loose the tenseness. He was studying harder than ever, for having a lack of anything else to distract him, and Blaise and Theo started complain that he didn't ever do anything _fun_.

As such, one weekend Harry found himself being dragged out of the common room wrapped in as many layers of clothes as humanly possible, with Blaise, Theo, and much to his surprise Daphne, Pansy and Tracey to build snowmen in the courtyard.

It had been perfectly innocent, and Harry had never actually built a snowman before (Ron said it was too childish – probably because Ginny was doing it), however things got a little out of hand when suddenly Quirrell came around the corner. Now Harry had gone stiff every time he saw Quirrell, and had to actually force himself to relax, however for one this wasn't the reaction.

Following from a discreet distance behind Quirrell were the Weasley twins, pointint their wands and bouncing snowballs _OFF THE BACK OF QUIRRELL'S HEAD_.

… As in directly onto Voldemort's face.

Harry had been mid sentence talking to Daphne when the sight caught his eye. He'd gone as still as stone, except for his eyes, which trailed the irate professor across the courtyard. Harry had tried to hold it in. He really had, but first the corner of his lip twitched, then turned into a sneer. Next a small snort escaped. Then a giggle, then, suddenly, Harry found him rolling around in the snow laughing so hard he was crying. He couldn't stop either. Every time he did, he'd look up and get a glance at Quirrell, who had stopped on the other side of the courtyard to stare, and then he'd dissolve back into tears again.

With an annoyed wave of his wand, and a detention for the Weasley's (who he had finally caught sight of), the snowballs stopped, but Harry's laughter didn't.

'S-S-Something funny P-Potter?' Quirrell said, actually managing to look a bit menacing. The other Slytherin's were all staring at Harry in horror, but every time he caught sight of Quirrell's turban his laughing would get worse.

'I can't… Can't…' Harry tried, but he got another image of Voldemort getting whacked in the face with a snowball, and was off laughing again.

'Detention Potter!'

None of the Slytherin's except Harry even realised Quirrell hadn't stuttered. Harry was too busy laughing to care.

Quirrell got more and more angry, but Harry beat him to the stage of breaking, when he actually couldn't breathe for laughing, and with an exasperated sigh, Quirrell dragged him off to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey gave him two doses of calming draught (as the first one hadn't worked as soon as harry caught sight of Quirrell's turban again), then even suggested that maybe he'd been somehow cursed with a laughing hex, but somehow shown no trace of it. Quirrell's eye had been twitching so hard by the time he stalked out that Harry thought his head might explode.

Thinking back, Harry remembered Fred and George doing that the first time too, but he hadn't then, known the amusement value. Voldemort always had had a vindictive streak against the Weasleys, whom Harry would now be joining in detention.

All of the Slytherin's had been looking forward to the holidays, and as Harry was _the only_ Slytherin who wasn't going home. None of them realised he wasn't, having not seen the list. Draco and Ron seemed to have taken up their original rivalry with just as much, if not more gusto, than when harry had been involved. Harry had mostly stayed out of it, but he was helping Neville properly measure powdered lionfish (and why hadn't they been told the first time around that you have to leave it on the scales for two minutes before the lionfish's natural magic stopped interfering with the measurements), when Draco realised that the Weasley's weren't going home for the holidays.

'I do feel sorry,' Draco said gleefully, his breath swirling in a mist in the cold dungeon air, 'for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts at Christmas, because they're not wanted at home.' Draco was looking at Ron, but for the first time since he was quite small, Harry truly mourned, for never having a proper Christmas.

'Of course,' Draco continued, oblivious to Harry sitting behind him, 'it must be even worse for those who know their family will be celebrating without them for… _various_ reasons.'

Harry's knuckles had gone white around his potions knife. He knew Draco was getting at the fact that the Weasley's were too poor to have all their family home at once. He knew that Draco, this Draco, probably wouldn't even have said it at all if he knew Harry was staying at the castle. But Harry's brain was refusing to work rationally.

'I don't know Malfoy,' Ron spat back 'Rather not be _able_ to go home, than to go and not be wanted once you're there.'

Somewhere in the back of his mind he was quite proud of Ron for that comeback. But taking up the majority of his attention was anger. He didn't realise, but he had dropped his Occlumency shields, and his magic was getting away from him.

Snape was the first to notice, spinning round with his eyes searching each student for signs of who was letting off such a strong aura. Unfortunately, while his shields had broken, his Slytherin mask had been getting quite good, and other than his magic, and a glint in his eyes, he looked quite serene.

'I couldn't say what it would be like to celebrate away from family Weasley, but I-'

'Draco silence!' Snape said harshly, causing a sort of shock to run around the room. Snape never spoke like that to Slytherins, even Harry.

Snape realised who it was the same moment Neville did. Their desk began rattling. Ron was oblivious.

'Oh look Malfoy, hit a nerve? Even your godfather doesn't want you.'

Harry had actually shut his eyes, realizing with Snape's outburst that his anger was getting out of hand. He was desperately trying to drag his shields back up, but with Ron's last jab they came crashing down. Fortunately for the class, only three bottles on the shelves exploded before Harry absorbed Ron's words, and then his anger switched to sorrow.

Harry felt a traitorous tear flow down his cheek. After all, this Christmas he couldn't hide. This Christmas he knew, that Lily and James Potter were sitting down somewhere to a Sunday roast, a baby girl in their arms and another one on the way. Despite it being so many years since Harry had sat locked in his cupboard looking out at the Dursley's opening presents, Harry suddenly felt it.

It wasn't until Neville whimpered beside Harry that he realised he had slipped far enough that he was projecting his miserable aura enough to make everyone around him feel equally as hurt. He drew in a shuddering breath, then with everything he had, pulled.

Snape blinked down at his class in shock. The aura just seemed to disappear as if it had never been there. The student's were all looking around a little scared, and Draco was actually blushing. He hadn't developed a full aura like that, but he knew what it was. The only people who seemed to realise who it was, were Snape and Neville.

Snape eyed Harry carefully, but Harry had pulled his Slytherin mask back up, and looked perfectly serene, and had moved on to skinning the grindlebog arm. Snape made no comment, and surprisingly didn't say anything later, when Harry finished his potion early, then asked to be excused.

Harry went straight to his dorm. He picked up his broom, then headed out to the pitch. He had history next, but Binns probably wouldn't even notice if he weren't there. He was soon in the air pulling of dangerous stunts that got his adrenalin going, and siphoning off some of his magic through pent up energy. By the time he made it back to the castle lunch was almost over.

The only indication anyone gave that the whole thing had happened, was Hermione, who rumor had it was buried deep in aura books, and Draco, who almost gave Harry a heart attack when he said a quiet 'Sorry, I wasn't thinking.' When Harry sat down next to him at the table.

After a bit of spluttering, Harry managed 'It's fine. I got caught off guard is all.'

If he thought that was a shock, the bigger one came two days later, when the Malfoy owl arrived in front of him at breakfast, with a note asking him if he would like to visit over Christmas, as he was (technically) family.

Harry declined politely, and said maybe next year. He still hadn't gotten over it when the Slytherin common room cleared out to just him a week later.

Despite feeling rather glum about a Christmas alone, Harry couldn't help but feel at home in Hogwarts, and actually, staying by himself in the Slytherin common room turned out to be a massive boon. Apep could move around freely, and Harry could take to him whenever he wanted. With no one much around the castle Harry had even managed to go back to the room of requirement and get the warming stone Apep had found, wrapping it and storing it under Blaise's bed.

Harry was annoyed, but not surprised once he thought about it, to find that Myrtle's bathroom somehow seemed to be under constant observation of the staff. Obviously he wasn't the only one who knew Tom Riddle was walking the halls of Hogwarts again.

Without his cloak, Harry wouldn't have a chance of getting down into the chamber, but at the same time, Quirrell might not either, which calmed Harry a little.

Harry had finished all his homework on the second day of the holidays, and spent the majority of the rest of his days climbing on furniture to get a closer look at some of the parselscript runes. He had always wondered why snakes had a written language, and part of him had every intention of asking Riddle this time if he got the chance. He had always suspected that parseltongues were actually descendants of Naga, who had magic all of their own, and would have a legitimate reason for having a written language, but he'd never been able to confirm it.

Much to his surprise, after the Horcrux had been removed, Harry had still spoken parseltongue. Unfortunately, he was the last person on the globe to do so. Apparently once Voldemort found out Harry Potter shared his gift, he'd gone on a rampage in about sixth year, sending assassins across the globe to anyone else (and their entire families) who even _might_ have been able to speak to snakes. This time, Harry didn't intend to let that knowledge die. He had every intention in the summer of sending letters off to those same people, trying to gain knowledge. For now, however, the runes of the common room evaded him.

After all his waiting, Christmas day actually caught Harry completely unaware. He stayed reading in his bed until an irate Snape came in to see if he had any intention of joinging the school for Christmas feast.

Harry had looked up completely shocked.

'It's Christmas?'

'Yes Potter. Now are you coming, the Headmaster insists the whole school be there.'

Harry rolled out of bed, pretending to pick something up of the floor, and allowing Apep to slide into his shirt pouch (thankfully Apep had been basking in the small amount of sun coming through the window out of Snape's line of sight).

'How did you miss that it was Christmas?' Snape asked seeming at least pleased that Harry hadn't been lazing about in his pajamas, and was quick to be ready. 'All the other brats would be up and tearing away at their presents.'

Harry shrugged a little. 'I just wasn't watching the date.'

Harry was a little glum, he had expected at least _one_ present for Christmas, even if it was the fifty pence from the Dursleys.

As they got to the common room, however Harry realised things were just done differently in Slytherin. There had been a small tree set up by the house elves over the break, and now, Harry noticed a small pile of presents underneath the tree, including his warming stone for Apep. He was mildly annoyed to see it sitting out in the open like that.

'Presents.' Harry said blankly. He wasn't really thinking, and was searching the pile with his eyes, looking for the cloak. He was pretty sure it wasn't there. It wasn't until he walked over closer to the pile, that he saw it sitting at the back. Once he saw it, he wasn't actually sure how he missed it. Gaudy flashing red and gold paper and all.

'Don't sound so enthusiastic Potter.' Snape drawled, making Harry suddenly rather annoyed. A small spike of spite went through him, so he opened his mouth with a carefully hidden smirk.

'Are they mine?' He purposely sounded awed.

'Of course they are yours, stupid boy. Whose else would they be?'

It got harder to hide his smirk. He turned and looked up at Snape with wide eyes. 'I've never had presents before.'

It was only tiny, barely there at all, but Harry caught Snape's flinch. It felt amazingly good to finally see the man have any image of Harry Potter being a spoilt little brat broken into a thousand pieces. Snape didn't say anything for a long moment, and when he did, his voice sounded odd.

'Did you want to open them now. Dumbledore can wait.'

Harry felt rather smug at the idea he was corrupting Dumbledore's little spy, but didn't want to mess with that too obviously just yet.

'They aren't going anywhere. I've never had a Christmas roast either, although I'm quite good at making them.' And with that parting shot, Harry scurried out of the common room, very aware of leaving Snape doing an impression of a gold fish behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

**THIRTEEN**

The Christmas feast was a disaster from start to finish. First of all, the twins were the only Weasleys who didn't outright hate Harry, Ron looking at Harry as Draco's friend, and hating him for it, and Percy, not approving for his lack of respect of McGonagall (or prefects, Harry imagined). Even finding him okay normally, Quirrell had punished the twins harshly for the snowball incident, and when Harry joined them for it, had managed to add an extra three nights worth of detention when Quirrell describing the event had set him off sniggering again. As that was only a week ago, they were still holding a bit of a grudge. The only other students were two older Ravenclaws, who didn't show interest in anything outside of the books they were reading, and a small Hufflepuff who went deathly white and let out a noise similar to a mouse being sat upon, when Harry sat down next to her.

He had managed to put Snape in a foul mood earlier (which he still didn't regret), especially towards Dumbledore, who actually for once didn't know what he'd done. Quirrell had been eyeing Harry suspiciously since the snowball incident, and Flitwick was at the too far down the end of the table, leaving a only a harassed McGonagall and Hagrid close enough to talk to Harry, but trying to make conversation whilst pretending Harry wasn't there.

The whole thing had gone up in sparks when Trelawney turned up with her death omens, and Ron had (to be fair, accidentally) made a joke about Harry's parents. The elder Ravenclaw, who obviously paid attention to nothing in the entire school made a comment about how he was sure they would be proud of their Gryffindor son, and Hagrid had burst into noisy tears. Snape had finally taken out his rage on Ron, causing all the Weasley's to go up in arms, and Dumbledore had tried to make the whole thing better by asking Harry what he'd got for Christmas. Before Harry could say anything, a slightly vindictive (and Harry suspected slightly tipsy as Sprout was being very insistent) Quirrell said Harry's behavior didn't deserve presents. The whole table turned to look at him in shock, and the Weasley twins had muttered something about snowballs, so before Harry could start a laughing fit again he had just stormed out of the room.

He had a much happier time alone in the common room with Apep. He had been very pleased with Harry bringing him the warming stone, which they set up under Harry's bed.

.:I couldn't get you a gift for yule, but I have an idea:.

.:Oh?:.

.:I overheard the perfumed one say she knew a spell that could be used to play cards against yourself:.

.:Why would I want to do that?:.

.:You wouldn't, but I think I have seen it before, it holds the cards up for you, maybe we could play?:.

Harry was oddly touched for a moment, before something caught his attention.

.:Where were you around magic?:.

.:Before the zoo I was owned by a Chinese wizard. I was quite small, but have a good memory:.

Harry frowned, he had forgotton Apep said he was magical. In his first timeline he was sure the snake he had spoken to had said it was raised in captivity.

.:You are magical?:.

.:When I am bigger:.

Apep seemed disinclined to talk about it, and harry was busy trying to think about exactly how big Apep would get, and made a note to look into magical animal shrinking spells.

Harry soon moved on to the rest of his presents.

Blaise had got him a subscription to a political magazine, which surprised harry a little, but would probably be a good read.

Theo had got him a small hand held wizarding wireless radio, with a note that said 'Now you will _have_ to listen to my Quidditch questions!'

He was surprised to see a card from each of the girls (even Millicent, who was always quiet and withdrawn), and a small box of treats from Greg and Vince each. Harry sent a mental glare at fate when the two Chocolate frogs turned out to be Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel.

The biggest shock was Malfoy… or rather, Malfoy's plural. Draco had sent a small Manuel on broomstick maintenance, and Narcissa and Lucius sent a list of contacts in the Quidditch industry.

Finally, Harry turned to the last two gifts. The Dursleys, ever faithful, had sent him fifty pence, and Dumbledore, the cloak. Harry didn't have to rush to try it on straight away, but did notice the note this time. Expecting the same, he glanced at it, only to double take then seethe in anger.

_Use it well. -AD_

That was it. No mention of the fact that it was his fathers, no mention of the fact that it was rightfully his. And he had told Harry who it was from, or as good as. Was he meant to feel guilty about the Great Dumbledore _giving_ him something. Use it well.

.:Apep, we are going out:.

Harry quickly put his presents away, then was soon heading out into the castle under the cloak. He cast a proximity ward around him, and removed scent and silenced his shoes and robes. With an actual growl he removed not one but_ four_! tracking charms, as well as a rune in the corner that would light up under magical sight.

He was pleased to find that the cloak was working for him like it had after he became Master of Death, keeping silent, and sending him a sort of signal when he put it on and something was enabling him to be seen (like the tracking charms).

With a snarl, Harry headed out into the castle.

He got almost to the door of moaning myrtle's bathroom, when his proximity ward buzzed silent against his skin. Wit annoyed huff he set off in a different direction, passing a worried looking Dumbledore on the way. He was pleased to notice he hadn't been able to sense the cloak. Harry decided there must be some sort of ward that he had missed, and just set to walking aimlessly, trying to work of his anger. It wasn't until he noticed the particular types of suits of armor that he noticed where he was. Walking a bit faster, he simply pulled off his cloak and stepped into the room.

The Mirror of Erised.

Harry stood staring at it for a long time; able to himself in the mirror, but not close enough for the effects to work.

Did he even want to know?

He could see the shimmering proximity ward on the mirror too.

'Exactly how much did you know?' Harry whispered out loud. All of the golden trio's adventures… how many times had the children been let run free, been all but forced to walk into danger.

'oh well, why not?' Harry mumbled to himself, just before he felt a magical presence step into the room behind him. He was pretty sure it was Dumbledore, but put his hand on his wand in his pocket just in case.

He took three steps forward.

It was exactly what he had seen before, only this time, his family wasn't those who came before him. And they weren't in the same room. They were all standing around Lily and James' graves; A world where they were actually dead. Luna stood with one arm wrapped around his waist, and one holding up a little boy, with Potter hair, only blonde, and Harry's green eyes. A little girl was burying her head in Harry's robes. Hermione stood to the right, with her hand in Ron's and a brood of their own. Remus stood to the side, with Tonks and Teddy. Harry's greater descendents were there too. Charles and Dorea Potter, Simon and Iris Evans. There were generations before that too, but Harry was focusing on the man standing behind Harry, a hand on each shoulder, and a grin on his face.

Sirius.

Harry put his hand to the glass. 'I wish you were here.'

Sirius gives him a sad smile.

'Good evening Harry.'

Harry didn't respond for a moment, before turning slowly to face the Headmaster.

'Hello Professor.'

Harry was a little surprised to see that Dumbledore was smiling, and it even looked genuine.

'So,' he said, slipping of the desk he had been sitting on, 'you like hundreds before you have discovered the delights of the mirror or erised.'

Harry frowned for a moment. 'Delights Sir? I think it's a bit dangerous. Why is it here?'

There was a moments surprise, before Dumbledore's smile grew. 'An intriguing line of thought Harry.'

'What I see will never exist.' _again_. 'no matter how much I would like it to.'

Dumbledore nodded sadly. 'Then you know what it does?'

Harry turned to face the mirror.

**'Erised** stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi' Harry paused, 'I show not your face, but your hearts desire.'

Dumbledore looked inordinately pleased. He nodded, 'It shows your nothing more or less, than your hearts deepest desire.'

Harry ran a finger down the glass, as if stroking Luna's face.

'I must ask you not to come back Harry, men greater than you have wasted away in front of this mirror.'

Harry nodded. 'Where is it going, if you don't mind me asking Sir? I don't want to waste away.'

Dumbledore looked at him long and hard. 'It will be remaining in the school,' He allowed, 'but as of tomorrow night, it will be much more heavily guarded.'

'What do you see Sir?' Harry blurted out. Mostly curious if Dumbledore would tell the same lie as before, for once not at all expecting to be upset by a lie. Dumbledore actually managed to surprise him.

'I see the biggest turning point in my life, taking me down another road.'

Some of Harry's surprise must have shown, as Dumbledore chuckled, and even managed to look a little sheepish.

'Sorry Sir. That was a very personal question.'

'It was, but an innocent one I believe. You best be off to bed Harry, it is getting quite late.'

'Would you mind walking me back Sir?'

Dumbledore looked surprised for a moment, and Harry was surprised with himself, but for some reason tonight he didn't hate Dumbledore. He probably would again in the morning, but for now, Harry was content to live in memories. They walked mostly in silence, Dumbledore humming mostly to himself. Harry felt a little bit guilty that he intended to rob the man as soon as the rest of the students were back.

Harry was up early the next day, and started to get things ready for the next stage of his plans. With Dumbledore having strong wards set up around the Chamber of Secrets, there wasn't much Harry could do, but there probably wasn't much Quirrell could do either. Harry resigned himself to setting up his own parseltongue proximity ward, and decided he'd have to leave it at that, although it did put him in a bit of a worry about where to keep the stone once he had it. He had no doubt that when it went missing, and Quirrell was still around, the school would be searched. Eventually he settled on the only other place he knew no one ever went.

The first night everyone got back Harry slipped off to bed early while everyone was still up, and before curfew. Closing the curtains on his bed and spelling them shut, Harry put a heavy silencing charm on the door to the balcony, then grabbing his broom, he stepped out into the night.

Not being able to recognize the ward that alerted Dumbledore to his presence near the Chamber, Harry wasn't willing to risk there being another like it on the third floor. Getting around it, ended up giving Harry a simpler solution.

When he was older, flying with the cloak wasn't possible, as his broom was too big, and he could be seen from below. But Harry was currently tiny (something he planned on looking in to over the holidays), and easily tucked the cloak back under him, although he disillusioned himself for good measure. Flying from the little balcony up to the third floor was a bit more complex than he expected, however after the third time counting wrong, he managed to spot Fluffy through a window.

Pulling out the little radio Theo got him for Christmas, Harry tuned in to a station that played only music from 6pm until 6am while the host slept. He was a little worried at first, that Fluffy wouldn't fall asleep to it, but as soon as the music floated through the window Harry opened, Fuffy was out cold. Keeping under the invisibility cloak, Harry hopped off the broom and pushed Fluffy's giant paw off the trap-door. Checking his pockets for everything he needed, he opened the trapdoor, and slipped back on his broom, before flying down.

The Devil's snare was covering the door to the next room, but a quick 'Lumos maxima' solved that, and Harry was moving onwards.

Flitwicks Keys actually took him a lot longer than the first timeline, as he didn't have anyone to help him corner the big silver one, nor did he want to injure them at all. Eventually though, being the youngest seeker in a century, and one of the best aged around twenty eight in a child's body, Harry managed to snatch it touching only the long metal, avoiding the blue wings entirely.

The next room would be Harry's hardest, but then, he didn't really plan to play fair.

Stepping up to the board, he asked the king to give up its place. Before anything else could happen, Harry sent a strong compulsion at the white pawn in front of the bishop, and with a relieved sigh from Harry, it moved forward one place.

'E7 to E5.' Harry grinned as his pawn moved, sending another strong compulsion charm at the white pawn next to the original one, causing it to move forward two steps.

'Ha!' Harry couldn't believe that worked. 'D8 to H4'

Harry's Queen slid across the board gracefully, then turned to face the white King. With a sigh, the king let go of his sword, and Harry practically skipped across the board. Not a single piece lost, and all he had to do was put them back on the way back.

.:What on earth is that smell?:. Apep complained, trying to bury himself deeper into Harry's robes. Harry laughed.

.:Another troll, only this time, a lot bigger:.

.:Well, are you going to do something about it?:.

Harry just grinned, and cast a spell to stop the troll from smelling him. Tucking back under the cloak, Harry opened the door very slowly and carefully.

The troll was sitting in front of the opposite door. But that was okay.

'_Praza copio ilusio_' Harry whispered. Suddenly there was, what looked like, a carbon copy of Harry standing next to him jogging on the spot. The troll looked up and grunted loudly. Harry held his breath, then pointed his wand to a far corner. The illusion ran off following the direction his wand was facing. With a great roar, the troll followed after it.

Harry calmly walked across the room, leaving the illusion running on the spot in the corner. The troll's club (this one had spikes) was constantly hitting the illusion, but doing no actual damage. With very few brain cells, the troll just stood there continuing to try.

.:With any luck it will still be doing that when we try and get out:.

Harry stepped through into Snape's room, causing a surprised hiss from Apep as fire leapt up behind them blocking the exits. Harry was relatively sure the tiniest bottle was the way to go forward, but he wasn't about to risk it, considering all the nasty things Snape was more than capable of brewing. (Not that Harry didn't have eight bezoars in his pocket ready and waiting).

Harry picked up the riddle and read it over.

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, _

_Two of us will help you, which ever you would find, _

_One among us seven will let you move ahead, _

_Another will transport the drinker back instead, _

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine, _

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line. _

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, _

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: _

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide _

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; _

_Second, different are those who stand at either end, _

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; _

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, _

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; _

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right _

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Harry pulled out working out paper, and scribbled away. The fact that the biggest bottle was one of the two that wouldn't kill you, but also one of the two second-in from the ends made it, and the matching second-in nettle wine. This placed two of the poisons as well. Then, because one end was poison, and the other didn't help you move forward, nor were there any nettle wines left, that meant the potion on the end let you pass back through the blue flames. That left only the tiny little bottle, and a green one, and the smallest wasn't a poison, which only left the potion to move forward through the black flames.

Harry looked up in surprise. He wasn't sure if it was because he was a lot older, but he remembered being totally confused the first time through, when actually, the whole thing seemed a little easy. He pocketed the red vial from the end, then drunk from the smallest vial, and stepped through the flames into the final chamber.

.:You would think that the best option would just have been to leave the riddle there, but put Draught of the Living Death in all of them, and a pressure ward for whenever a bottle was lifted off the table:.

.:That would be far to logical:. Apep laughed.

Harry was relieved when he saw the mirror there. Crossing his fingers, he raised his occlumency shields, and focused on getting the stone so Voldemort didn't. Luna had it in the image, she let it rest on the palm of her hand, then a whole bunch of tiny glowing dots picked it up and flew it over into Harry's pocket. Harry felt his pocket Happy to feel the stone in there.

.:Now for the tricky part:.

It took Harry almost as long getting the crystal he'd found in the room of requirements into the mirror as it did completing the rest of the course, however he had taken a liking to warding when he was older, and enchanting was like charms and wards mixed together. Harry's versions were a bit rusty, but while Dumbledore's would last for years, Harry's would last until the end of the year, which would be enough. The main reason it took so long however, was actually that Harry had to do the whole thing without leaving a magical signature.

However, only an hour and a half after he had left his dorm, Harry was drinking the potion to go back through Snape's room. He placed both bottles on the bench, knowing they would refill (and isn't that another stupid idea!), snuck past the troll, who was still bashing the unharmed illusion until Harry dissolved it before moving back to the chess room. Much to his surprise he didn't even have to play his way back across, and the pieces had returned to where they were. They keys did swoop at him as he mounted his broom and flew back out, but didn't follow him down the joining corridor, and while the Devils Snape had begun to move back over the door, it only took a harsh shove, and another _lumos_, and Harry could happily fly back up to Fluffy. Under the cloak he made his way past the dog, which didn't even wake up after Harry was out the window, and turned off the wireless, only letting out a disgruntled snort and rolling about a bit. By five past eight Harry was back in his room after a detour to put the stone and a few other valuables where he knew they would be safe, and he was back in bed. Only Malfoy was in the dorm, but he was in the shower as Harry came in, and was none the wiser.


	14. Chapter 14

**FOURTEEN**

The next morning Harry solved his nervousness by simply blocking off all knowledge of the stone into a small part of his brain behind shields, and not even allowing himself to look at it. As far as his brain was concerned, he didn't even know the stone was in the school. It appeared his worry was for nothing, as there wasn't even the slightest sign that any of the teachers were any the wiser that the stone was gone. Harry held out for a week before he grumpily made his way up to the owlery. Disguising his magical signature completely meant it took a lot longer to get the attention of an owl, and Hadwin was sending him dirty looks, however he wasn't going to take unnecessary risks. He had even written the letter upside down and backwards before using a mirror charm so as to disguise his writing. He'd nicked the parchment off Binns' desk, figuring Binns was about the only person who couldn't get blamed.

The note was simple, stating only that he had the stone and the list of Dumbledore's protections, and that he would send the stone when he knew it was safe. He addressed it to '_The husband of Perenelle Flamel_' as rumor had it you couldn't send mail direct to the Flamels, and sent the school owl on its way. He wasn't expecting such brilliant results, and was first distracted by Quidditch.

Harry pushed all thoughts of the stone to the back of his mind as the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw match was coming up. Harry wasn't really sure how the match would go, as when he had played his second match (the first timeline), he caught the snitch five minutes into the game, and he never played the third, as he was unconscious. The school was all a buzz by the Thursday, and Harry was getting a lot of pressure from Slytherin. The Hufflepuff Gryffindor game had been surprisingly tame, both Oliver and Coots were excellent keepers, which worked out well for Slytherin, as it had been a low scoring game 160-30 to Hufflepuff. Harry had been quite sad Gryffindor lost, but Cedric had started this year, and he had always been good.

Despite the pressure, Harry was looking forward to flying a game again, and was the only one of the Quidditch team who ate much at breakfast.

'Bloody hell Potter. Are you even a little nervous?' One of the seventh years called out, observing the huge serving Harry was eating of scrambled eggs and salad and salmon on toast.

'Maybe I'm eating because I'm nervous.'

'Are you?'

Harry smirked. 'Nope.'

'Cocky brat.'

Harry shrugged. 'We might not win, but I hope we do. All I can do is go out and play my best. Breakfast won't make much difference unless I take a bludgers to the stomach.'

Several of the other team members groaned, and pushed away their toast.

The day was supposed to be clear, but by the time the match was about to start there was a heavy wind that was making Flint nervous.

'Potter, are you going to be able to stay on course in this weather?'

'Not as well as Daniels.' Harry admitted. Daniels was a seventh year, and was probably around three times Harry's weight in muscle. Flint opened his mouth to say something, but Hooch called them out.

Harry didn't have much of a chance to worry about the wind, as it seems Ravenclaw had decided to take the Gryffindor tactic's much more seriously. Both beaters were furiously attacking Harry with the bludgers, and completely ignoring the rest of the game. Flint came over and asked Harry if he needed to call them off again, but Harry had a better idea. Every time the Ravenclaw chasers got possession of the Quaffle, Harry waited for their beaters to strike, then dropped thorough the play of the game, disrupting their flow. Nott and Loki soon caught on, and were staying low on the pitch, waiting for the bludgers to follow Harry down, before hitting them back up into the game. It was, however stopping Harry from watching for the snitch, and he almost missed it when Daniels went after it. Fortunately, both Daniels and Harry were blocked when the snitch followed Harry and the bludger's pattern, and dropped through the middle of the game play, out of sight amongst the fast moving chasers. Harry managed to pull up before running into Lisa Celloa, but only just, and once Lisa was out of the way, Daniels didn't try pulling up at all, purposely crashing full speed into Harry. Harry managed to stay on his broom, but he would have a pretty big bruise on his back the next day.

It wasn't until Flint was taking the penalty shot that Harry got a huge sense of déjà vu. He wasn't miss-led, and all of a sudden, his broom took a great lurch underneath him. His immediate reaction was to turn to face the teachers stands. Sure enough, Quirrell and Snape were both muttering away.

'What are you doing Potter?' Daniels called out. Harry wasn't using the tactic of staying high and out of the game, so at least this time it got spotted earlier. Plus Daniels wasn't that bad a bloke, he just wanted to win.

'Something strange is happening with my broom. That wasn't me!'

Daniels seemed very alarmed at this, and desperately tried to call the attention of his captain, or Hooch. Unfortunately there had been a collision of chasers, and the Ravenclaw's were now taking a penalty, so not too many people were looking at the seekers. Harry's broom was getting worse much quicker than last time, and after another giant lurch, Harry was thrown sideways, now dangling from underneath the broom. This finally seemed to have caught the crowd's attention, and madam Hooch flew over.

'What are you doing Pot-' But she didn't get any further as it became obvious as when she got to close, the broom made another huge lurch taking Harry higher and away from anyone coming close to him. There was obviously no way that Harry could be doing it on purpose.

Harry felt the sudden fear surge through the crowd, as Hooch got everyone to back off, recognizing that going closer only made it worse. She was circling underneath with worry. Daniels was hovering nearby, but Harry was barely paying attention. It was a lot worse than in the original timeline, and his fingers were slipping. Another lurch meant Harry lost grip with his left hand. Right as it happened, Harry looked straight down and saw the snitch hovering directly below him. He looked back up to see Daniels focusing just on him.

'Sorry Daniels.' He yelled.

'What for?'

'For doing something crazy!' Harry yelled with a laugh. He wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer anyway… so he let go.

He snatched the snitch out of the air on the way down, spinning around so he way lying flat, then with all his magic, he tried for as many wandless cushioning charms he could manage on himself between leaving the broom and hitting the ground.

WHACK!

Much to his surprise, when he came to, he was still on the pitch. The Slytherin team were nearby, and all the professors were standing around looking pale. Snape was casting spells over him, and he could hear someone yelling for Dumbledore, who hadn't been at the game.

'This is going to hurt like hell tomorrow isn't it?' Harry said, before opening his eyes. He saw a great amount of relief in Snape's face even showing through the man's usual blank mask. There was a collective sigh that went around the group.

'You've shattered your collarbone.' Snape noted. 'But surprisingly that's about it.'

'Could be worse.' Harry sighed, wincing when his shoulder moved. Despite being in extreme pain, he could only think that at least Lockheart wasn't there to vanish any bones.

There was a pause as everyone turned to look to his left. It hurt too much for Harry to turn, but soon Dumbledore came into sight looking furious.

'Harry, is he-' but he caught sight of Harry before he finished. Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment in relief. After another beat pause Harry couldn't help himself. He opened his palm letting the snitch let it's wings out. 'I caught the snitch.'

He was met by stunned silence, before a Ravenclaw girl feinted.

Harry looked on mildly interested for a moment, and was about to comment when Snape suddenly caught his attention.

'Sorry Potter.'

'For wh-ARGHW! Bloody fuck!' Snape suddenly levitated Harry into the air, a magical stretcher underneath him. The jolt had hurt like hell, but harry actually appreciated not getting the warning.

'Language Potter.' was Snape's only response. Harry sent him a scowl.

'Can we do without the crowd if I'm to be submitted to this?' Harry complained, and much to his surprise, Snape and Dumbledore agreed. Snape and Flint (who plain refused not to go with Harry) escorted Harry off to the hospital wing.

'Tell madam Pomfrey I've got a monitor on what medical spells are cast on me, and this isn't an excuse for her to investigate me scar.' Harry grimaced quietly. He was actually in a surprising amount of pain for the magical world.

'Tell her yourself Potter.' Snape said.

'Sorry Sir, but I'm pre- pretty su-' and then Harry blacked out. Or he sort of did. Everything went dark, and he couldn't move. He wasn't aware of the movement of the stretcher, but he was still able to follow the conversation.

Flint was immediately alarmed.

'Professor he's out again!' Flint yelled.

'I'm surprised he lasted that long… actually I'm surprised he came around at all.'

Harry frowned mentally, unused to Snape's tone. Flint was a prefect, and held some of Snape's respect.

'What?'

'My focus is on potions, not healing, but even I can tell there are too many breaks in his collarbone for my numbing charm to be strong enough. I don't want to give him anything for it without talking to Pomfrey.'

Flint went quite silent. Harry groaned internally. This sounded like a long stay in the hospital wing.

'He'll be okay though… right?'

_I better bloody well be all right! I'll kill Voldemort if I'm not!_ Somewhere deep in his consciousness Harry realised the absurdness of that thought.

'He will be fine, although I can't say I envy him his hospital stay. He should, however, by all rights be dead. So I suppose the brat shouldn't complain too much.' This time Harry snorted internally. Liquid luck for blood.

'D- dead?'

'I can only assume accidental magic, although I wonder…' Snape frowned looking down at Harry, who was still appearing to be unconscious. 'He was riddled with cushioning charms.'

'Lucky he's so young.' Flint said, referring to the accidental magic.

'I didn't like having him in our house, I'll admit, but you are his mentor. Mentor's are important in Slytherin. I expect you to take this seriously, and for this conversation to go no further.'

'Yes Sir.'

Harry was surprised at the past tense when Snape mentioned not liking him being in Slytherin. He had expected the grudge to hold longer. Snape and flint kept talking, but Harry couldn't keep hold of the conversation any longer, and soon he was out again completely.

Harry woke again to the familiar pattern of white tiles on the roof of the hospital wing. He groaned, and it took him a while to remember why he was there. Madam Pomfrey soon swooped down on him. She didn't say anything, and Harry checked and she hadn't looked at his scar. Harry was pleased. He liked Madam Pomfrey, despite hating the hospital wing; it wasn't that he didn't trust her. He just didn't trust Dumbledore, and didn't know how readily available school medical records were. Any coherent thought was soon swept from his mind as she made him swallow a third (Harry had stayed unconscious for the first two) dose of skell-e-grow.

Despite the seriousness of his injury, Harry was actually out of the hospital wing only four days later, as he had somehow managed to only injure his bones, not anything else. It felt a little odd, not having Ron and Hermione come and visit every day. He did have quite a few visitors. The Quidditch team came, then Balise and Theo, even Neville (which was especially nice because after years of visiting his parents he knew his way around nurses, and Pomfrey let him stay for much longer than she would anyone else). The final visitor was Daniels, who's first name was Josh. Josh mainly came to berate Harry (in a nice I-can't-believe-you-almost-died-what-were-you-thin king sort of way) about his stupidity, even though Harry had had no control over the whole thing.

Dumbledore came to visit too, but Harry pretended to be sleeping.

Sooner than he expected (and much, much sooner than Pomfrey would have liked) Harry was back in classes. The teachers had been putting more and more pressure on about end of year exams, and while Harry had been slowly but steadily increasing the quality of his essays (he was down to three drafts from five or six), he knew he would have to be very careful with the final exams. He knew that there were bonus questions on each exam, and that they increased in difficulty up to grades well above each year level. Now Harry had been intending to stick under the radar… right up until Filtch made him polish every academic trophy in the trophy room. There was a list of academic high achievers and for every year he had been at the school, T. M. Riddle held _at_ _least_ three exam records. So on top of revising, Harry spent an inordinate amount of time figuring out exactly what scores he had to beat on each exam, in order to own Voldemort. He probably wouldn't be so set on this if he weren't hoping Quirrell would still be in the school at the time. It was only two days after he had sent his owl to Flamel, and he had spent the morning second free in the library, and was still trying to get his head around the Charms scoring system (how exactly they judged the tap-dancing-pineapple) and wasn't paying any attention to what was going on around him, until he suddenly became aware that all the pure-bloods, most of the half-bloods across the whole school, and every single Ravenclaw, had gone very still, and were watching as a middle aged man walked towards Dumbledore.

The man was wearing an old fashioned, but well suited robe, looking to be of the finest materials. He had wavy light brown hair, and a set of heavy rimmed glasses, and was thin enough that he looked like a light breeze would knock him over. Harry probably wouldn't have noticed him at all in a crowd, but the school's reaction told him whoever this was, he was _important_ to the magical world. He almost let out a squeak when Dumbledore came to his feet with an uncertain vibe, but a large smile.

'Nicholas! To what do I owe this pleasure?'

Harry's eyes darted towards Quirrell, who looked like he was about to feint.

'Pleasure?' Flamel's voice was deep and rich, and nothing like Harry expected out of the wispy man. It was also seething with rage. 'Pleasure?! _Mon_ _Dieu_! This is no pleasure Wulfric! Where have you put my _pierre_ _philosophale_!'

Dumbledore didn't look at all pleased that that had been said in front of the whole school, but then… Harry considered the man in front of him carefully, Flamel looked to be raging on the inside, but still calm enough to be plotting. Harry was pretty sure this was a political move. The question he really wanted to know, was why had he made it public? The whole point of Harry moving the stone was so it was a diversion.

Much to Harry's disappointment, Dumbledore and Flamel dropped into rapid French, and Harry never did get the hang of translation spells. He had had to pass two language units in Advanced Auror Academy, He had just scraped by in Egyptian (wanting to go off and work with Bill for a bit), and had used Parseltongue as the second. They had tried to claim they couldn't be sure he was saying the right thing, but in the end he had a snake take an obstacle course under his direction, and they had given him a pass. Despite this, he wasn't useless, and quickly slid over to sit closer to Daphne.

'What's going on?'

'And why should I know?' Daphne asked.

'Because I know you speak fluent French, now spill!'

Daphne sighed. 'No idea where you get your information Potter, but I will tell you, just because it's so amusing. I can't follow all the words, but I suspect only half the ones I don't know are scholarly, and the others are rather crude.' She wrinkled her nose, 'The general gist, however is that Dumbledore was meant to have some stone of Flamel's, which Dumbledore claims is perfectly safe, on the _third floor_ by the way. Did you know Ruth Marriet's brother in Gryffindor went to check it out and Dumbledore has a Cerberus of all things! Ridiculous!' Harry frowned, still watching Dumbledore get ripped to shreds (fun to watch even in another language as it turns out).

'But Flamel doesn't seem to think so?' Harry prompted, when Daphne got distracted complaining about three headed dogs near children. Harry agreed, but was more interested in Flamel.

'I'm not sure, but it sounds an awful lot like someone is blackmailing, or trying to, Flamel with his stone.'

'What!' Harry's voice came out harsh and hissy, almost slipping into parseltongue. Daphne gave him a startled look, but before Harry had to come up with an excuse the two old friends switched back to English… or Flamel did.

'Blackmail Wulfric!' He said, waving Harry's letter around. 'Blackmail!'

'We will go and check now, but I assure you, it is most safe, the defences are quite strong…'

' STRONG! _Robuste?!_ Whoever he is, he gave me a list of your defences. He didn't even tell me how to get past them. Cerberus always have a weakness of some magnitude to music, but even without that it is not impossible to get past them for a more than average wizard or witch. Devil's snare is only really dangerous when you are already vulnerable. Lumos is the first spell to be learnt at Beauxbaton! The first one! Now while not everyone is good at chess, you would simply play the king, if you lose you merely concede, and if you win it is simple. Giant set or not! Not everyone is excellent on a broom, but most are capable enough given time. A troll is a fair defence, so long as you don't mind killing. Someone who is after _mon pierre_ _philosophale_ will most likely be quite capable at casting Avada Kedavra! As for your potions… I was given the four clues and a quick sketch of the bottles and it took mere moments.'

'There was the mirror. No one should be able-'

'Just because you can't see past your childhood mistakes doesn't mean no one else can! Besides _obviously_ someone has.'

Silence reigned across the whole room for a moment, as Flamel seemed to take a deep, calming breath.

'I do not care, Wulfric, if my stone must be destroyed, but it _must not_ be given into the hands of those who would not hesitate to use it against good.'

'We will check the chamber, and search the castle if we must. It has not passed the wards at any rate.'

Harry frowned. Was the shrieking shack within the wards, or was Dumbledore lying? Either way, he was very, very glad he hadn't settled for leaving it in his secret compartment once he realised he couldn't get to the chamber of secrets. Even if they realised it was in the shack, Harry had put it in the cupboard under the stairs (yes he _did_ see the irony) under fidelius. And that was another thing. Why wasn't the stone just kept in a draw under fidelius in Dumbledore's office in the first place, or the same _with_ Flamel. Harry would be pointing that out in his next letter.

Dumbledore soon departed with Flamel en tow, and much to Harry's amusement, the whole school burst out in chatter the moment they passed through the doors. As if they wouldn't be able to hear it all down the corridor. Harry could practically see all the children of Dumbledore's adversaries planning out their letters home.

But of course, his attention was on Quirrell. Who, all things considered, seemed to be taking the whole thing quite well. Maybe he just thought he could find the stone before Dumbledore did now. Harry couldn't help but think that Quirrell probably felt rather stupid for taking so long, now knowing that the other teacher's tasks were so easy. The only problem would have been the mirror, and he never would have been able to figure that out from Dumbledore anyway. Most of the other _protectors_ were looking pretty embarrassed too.

Dumbledore could be seen to be in a lot of panic a few hours later, and the whole school was shuffled in to the great hall while the school was searched for the stone. Harry was very glad that he'd decided to move most of his important things out to the shack, and even gladder that he kept his invisibility cloak on him at all times. He can just imagine Snape having a field day confiscating it.

Quite a lot of students were more than a little annoyed at having their things looked through, but Dumbledore made a blanket statement, that as long as there was nothing dangerous to the student body, things against school rules would be overlooked. That calmed down quite a lot of people, and the fact that it would be their head of house searching along with house elves, calmed more people down. Especially the Slytherins, who knew Snape wouldn't sell them out for the no doubt various Dark goods to be found in the snake nest.

Harry felt a pretty smug satisfaction when Snape had to call on him because they couldn't get into his trunk. Harry flat out refused to tell him the password (now was _not_ the time to reveal he could talk to snakes) but agreed to open it for them. This happened to quite a few students across all houses, so Harry didn't even get suspected of going dark.

Eventually they declared that whoever had got the stone was better at hiding than they were at finding (although not quite in those words), but Nicolas Flamel decided to stick around until his stone passed through the wards. This, in Harry's opinion, was the biggest reward for stealing a highly valuable artifact he'd ever been given (and the goblins had given him a _huge_ payout to come on board as a security advisor after he robbed Gringotts). Flamel was quite happy to give lectures, which he opened to anyone who had a free period at that time. Harry suspected he just enjoyed teaching, and probably didn't really _need_ to stay at the castle. Harry signed up for every single lecture he could, and went to every one, giving up on studying in order to go to them. His year-mates thought he was crazy, as they were barely keeping up with their homework most of the time, and only Hermione was doing any serious revising… The Ravenclaws don't count.

For the first week Flamel's classes were hugely popular, but as time went on numbers dwindled, and Harry was soon noticed, as the only student below fifth year that was still coming regularly. Flamel questioned him about it at the end of one lesson, suggesting that he could probably better spend his time studying, as a lot of the subjects he spoke of needed a basic understanding of other subjects. Harry had just shrugged.

'Perhaps, but I am quite capable of taking notes, even if I aren't following you all the time. I may not understand them all now, but when I am older I will be able to come back to the notes. I probably won't get a chance to listen to you lecture again then.'

Flamel had seemed inordinately pleased with this logic, and made no more comments about Harry sitting in. Flitwick gave Harry twenty points for dedication, securing his spot as Harry's favorite teacher (as if Harry hadn't already decided that). It was quite a while before Harry managed to send off an owl without being seen doing so. He was sure Dumbledore would have wards on the owlery, and wasn't sure how else to tell Flamel that he really hadn't been meaning blackmail. In the end, it was pure luck. A school owl brought a note for Theo at breakfast, but he wasn't there at the time. Harry had long since written Flamel's letter, so simply took Theo's note, then gave the owl Flamel's, and asked it to fly to the owlery and back first. There was an uproar again when Flamel got the note, but it also contained a vial of elixir for Flamel, and stated quite clearly that he had not intention of blackmailing Flamel, but wanted to ensure that there was no way he planned on letting anyone but Flamel protect it. Harry informed Flamel that he had sent enough elixir to Perenell to last them another two years, and he was quite sure that Flamel would be able to set up a safe spot before then, promising to be in touch. The only negative part of the letter was informing Flamel that Harry (without names) had put the stone under the fidelius charm, and would rather die than let it fall into the hands that were seeking it.

Flamel made a show of being quite relieved, but didn't look like he was moving out of the castle any time soon, and in the end, announced (Harry suspected without warning Dumbledore) that he would be staying to give lectures until the end of the year.


	15. Chapter 15

**FIFTEEN**

The end of the year was coming up fast, and Harry couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. Every year he had been at Hogwarts Harry had been involved in some huge adventure at the end of the school year. By the time he'd got through his exams unscathed (including an extra one set by Flamel with no more warning than 'Today there will be no lecture. Leave your bags at the door. You are sitting an exam in theory alchemy which will go on your records.'

Harry had been a bit wary, as it didn't say which level each question was, and he had to keep remembering to write like a thirteen year old (because he wanted to pull off an incredibly bright eleven year old).

Every single one of his exams went well, and even McGonagall gave him a grudging nod when his snuff box was perfect, then he asked for the extension work, and turned various small mammals into an entire boudoir set of exquisite beauty.

Flitwick had been so excitable after Harry had his pineapple tap dance across the table, then tango with a Banana Harry brought with him.

Potions too went smoothly, Harry would never be an amazing brewer, but he should have managed a high A at least.

In fact, the only exam he was even a little bit nervous about was history, as the only subject (excluding Flamel's) that had challenged him all year.

Once exams were done Harry was growing more and more twitchy by the day. The night Quirrell originally went for the stone came and went, and before Harry knew it, the only thing he had left for the year was the final Quidditch match.

Considering his last match had ended in the hospital wing, Harry was more than a bit nervous. At the same time, Slytherin were way ahead on the points tally, and were pretty much set of the Quidditch Cup. They only had to score thirty points, and for HufflePuff to score less than one hundred and ninety in order to win overall. The house cup was looking pretty good too, despite Harry's early fifty-point loss. Thinking of this made Harry wonder what had happened to Norberta, and if Hagrid had ever gotten the dragon. Draco had never ended in detention, and none of the Gryffindor got a massive point-loss either, so he couldn't be sure.

The weekend after exams Harry was able to move a lot of his things from the shack back into his trunk's secret compartment. None of the teachers had been able to get into his trunk at all, and they didn't even find the secret compartment, let alone get into it. The only thing he left in the shack was the stone.

With only a week left at Hogwarts, Harry had been sneaking off to the room of requirements nightly, brewing up multiple batches of disguise, healing and aging potions. He only intended returning to the Dursleys for the minimum amount of time, but he couldn't be sure they wouldn't try to keep him there. Over the year Slytherin had come to accept Harry in their house, but other than Theo, Blaise, and the Quidditch team, the majority of Slytherin still disliked him, and weren't afraid to show it. Theo and Blaise however _did_ like Harry, and started to notice when he started getting bags under his eyes and disappearing in all their free time.

'Where do you go?'

'To be alone.'

Was becoming a common argument between the three boys, but Harry wouldn't budge. It was probably helping that he found it so amusing watching Theo and Blaise try every trick in the Slytherin book in order to get it out of him, and fail.

Sooner than Harry knew it was the Hogwarts Leaving Feast. Slytherin had won their game against Hufflepuff, much to Harry's amusement, exactly like in his first-second game. Snape had decided to referee, which had the Hufflepuffs in a foul mood, but it hadn't mattered, because Harry caught the snitch ten minutes into the game before anyone else had managed to score. Everyone else was extatic, but Harry was just annoyed that he had taken nearly twice as long as in his first timeline, and he didn't beak the record. This won Slytherin the Quidditch Cup, and put their house well in the lead, with 783 points to Hufflepuff's 723, Gryffindor's 695, and Ravenclaw's 530 (Two Ravenclaw seventh year's had gotten into a massive fight and injured three first year Hufflepuffs, losing them 100 points).

The hall was decked out in Slytherin green and silver, and their house was cheerily celebrating and enjoying winning the house cup for the seventh year running (and weren't the seventh year students smug). Harry was watching the staff table silently, and frowned when Dumbledore stood up to make a feast. Harry was starting to get used to the almost constant déjà vu, however this was going to piss him off.

'Another year gone!' Dumbledore said cheerfully. 'And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them empty again before next year.' Dumbledore smiled across the room, and Harry had to forcibly stop himself flinching as Dumbledore's gaze came to rest on him with a slight frown.

'Now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Ravenclaw, with 532 points; in third, Gryffindor with 695; Hufflepuff has 723 points, and Slytherin has 785.'

The table around Harry broke out in a storm of cheering, and Draco banged his goblet on the table, however Harry just narrowed his eyes and clapped quietly.

'Well done Slytherin, yes well done, well done However…' the hall paused. 'Recent events must be taken into account.'

The smiles faded on the faces all around him, and Harry ran his eye quickly over the Gryffindor table. His jaw dropped when he saw Hermione had a bandaged arm and Neville a plaster on his head.

'Ahem,' said Dumbledore, 'I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes… First, to Mr. Dean Thomas,' Harry's eyes snapped to Dean with the rest of the hall, and frowned. 'There are all kinds of bravery, it takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but even more, to stand up to your friends. So I award twenty points to Gryffindor, for showing such courage.' Dean went redder than anyone Harry had ever seen, and Gryffindor cheered.

'Second – to Miss Hermione Granger… for the cool use of logic in the face of fire and danger to Hogwarts staff, I award Thirty-five points to Gryffindor.'

Harry's mind was working super fast under an impassive façade, and with a quick glance up to the teachers table, Harry noticed that Hagrid wasn't there.

'That bloody dragon.' He hissed under his breath. Daphne, Draco and Theo were all close enough to hear and gave him a questioning look, but Dumbledore interrupted the Gryffindor cheers, which went from trying to raise the bewitched ceiling, to anticipated silence. Clearly they all knew that Neville was involved somehow as well.

'Third – to Mr. Neville Longbottom…' said Dumbledore. The room went deadly quiet. 'For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor thirty-five points.'

The Gryffindor's exploded. Those that could do math were practically bouncing in their chairs, and around him an uneasy whispering had started within Slytherin. The two houses were tied.

Harry didn't move. His gaze was locked on Dumbledore's. He saw the sad, defeated look and knew what was going to happen before anyone else.

'You bastard.' Harry hissed out again, causing the three closest to him to whip around and look at him warily.

'Unfortunately…' Dumbledore's voice stilled the hall again, 'Unfortunately not all behavior is positive. For utter disrespect, and offensive language towards a teacher, I detract ten points…' Harry had already begun moving before Dumbledore could finish. '… from Mr. Harry Potter.'

Harry was out the door before the roar of both Gryffindor and Slytherin went up. Gryffindor's were dancing about and celebrating their three heros, and even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were looking pleased that someone other than Slytherin had finally won. Slytherin however was in uproar.

Harry didn't see any of this however. He was fuming. He knew what Dumbledore was talking about. That morning McGonagall had told her class that exam results would be posted in their common rooms the morning they left, and handed out letters reminding them they couldn't do magic. She had been focusing directly on Harry when she said this and, in a foul temper because he'd blotched an aging potion in the room of requirement that morning, he had snarled 'What? Worried I might have to defend myself against the muggles?'

'No, I _hope_ I can trust that won't be necessary.' She hadn't sounded like she thought he could trust him at all.

Harry hadn't responded verbally, just giving her a smug smirk, thinking of the undetectable prank potions he'd brewed just in case the Dursleys got difficult. There had not been any foul language, and she had not chosen to discipline him at the time, so he shouldn't rightfully have points taken. Harry didn't even are so much that Gryffindor had won. His first stop after storming out of the hall was to look at Hagrid's hut, which was partially burnt down, and still smoking. Hermione, Neville and Dean probably earned those points. Dumbledore was perfectly capable of awarding them fifty points each, or at least to Hermione and Neville, and not bringing Harry into it. It was a political move. The snakes were going to hate him.

Harry snarled and turned around, pacing along the front entry way.

'Problem Mr. Potter?'

Harry turned to snap at the voice, only to be hit straight in the chest with a stunner.


	16. Chapter 16

**SIXTEEN**

Harry came too in the dull darkness of a room lit with only the light of the fireplace. Despite never having seen it in it's current form, Harry recognized the DADA office immediately, and groaned.

'What is it with you and attacking at the end of the year?'

'What?' Quirrell had been smirking, however his smile dropped for a moment in shock.

Harry struggled against the ropes tying him to the chair.

'Stop struggling, you won't escape.'

'Fuck off Quirrell…' Harry spat out, then with a smirk added, 'and your pathetic parasite too.'

'What did you say?!' Quirrell had been moving up and close to Harry's face, but with the last comment reeled back in shock. It was enough of a distraction for Harry to wandlessly conjure a knife and cut his hands free.

'Let me talk to him.' Harry demanded.

'I don't know what…'

'Let me talk to the boy.' The high cold voice echoed around the blank room, and Harry was surprised to realise he had missed it. _Oh Gods… I've finally gone around the bend._

'Master you are not strong enough.'

'I have strength enough for this.'

While Quirrell began undoing his turban, Harry was using his freed wrists to cut through the knot holding the rope around his chest, and send another bit of wandless magic to cut through the ropes at his feet. He was smirking by the time Quirrell turned his back, but secretly exhausted underneath a Slytherin mask.

The first thing Voldemort did was send a leglimens probe out. Harry let it slide harmlessly over his shields, feeding enough false memories that Voldemort didn't realise the shields were there. He was careful in his choice of thoughts, and showed mostly anger at Dumbledore for the point loss, and the event that lost him the points. Voldemort seemed satisfied.

'You don't seemed surprised to see me Potter.'

'I'm not. I could feel you all year.'

'_You_ could feel me, when the great Albus Dumbledore could not?' Voldemort sounded more than skeptical, and Harry pushed the memories of his disgust at Dumbledore forward. He was less than happy to be here, but if he could get Voldemort to believe they might be on the same side, then he might have a chance at escaping.

'Dumbledore knew you were here.' Harry sneered. 'In fact, I feel as if he expected us to meet, and was disappointed we did not. I wonder why that is?'

Harry could feel Voldemort's rage, and felt a pang of pity for Quirrell, who was whimpering. Harry was more than aware what it was like to have the angry Dark Lord in your head.

'Dumbledore is a fool. He thinks you will win. But I am still here, despite you.' This seemed to bring Voldemort back to an angry point. 'Yess… despite… Look what you have done to me Potter, see what I was forced to become?' Voldemort's face said. Harry looked at him curiously, but refused to react. This… face, it was nothing to the full moster.

'I am mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share another's body… but there have been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds… Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… Quirrell has been drinking it for me faithfully.'

'Does that give him a cursed life, or you?' Harry couldn't help but blurt out.

'You are an odd child, a pity. There is such potential there, but I cannot allow you to live.'

'What are you going to do without the stone?' Harry was reverting to his old distraction techniques, trying to send a wandless alohamora at the door. His body was completely free from the ropes now, though he held them in place using his magic.

'Well, well, you have done the thing properly. Was it you who took it?'

Harry scoffed immediately, anticipating the question. 'No, but I finally understood why you were here.'

Harry had a moments celebration in the back of his head when Voldemort accepted that. He had just lied to Voldemort! To an expert Leglimens who was no doubt looking for lies!

'Yes, a set back that, but I have other means. But I am being distracted. Come here boy.' There was utter command in his voice, but the moment of the first syllable Harry had dived to the side and grabbed his wand from where it was sticking out the back of Quirrell's pocket.

Suddenly Quirrell let out a great scream and turned around, his face morphing to something crossed between his own and Voldemorts.

'That was a stupid move, Harry Potter.'

Harry acknowledged that with a slight nod. Mostly because Voldemort had spun around and had his back to the door. Harry was eyeing the entrance, but still managed to dodge as a familiar green curse went shooting past his left ear.

'Fuck.' Harry said, earning a smirk from Voldemort before a red curse flew at him. Harry was just grazed by the crucio, causing his left side to spasm in pain for a moment. It was enough for Voldemort to get another curse off, this time sickly yellow. It caught Harry in the left arm, and a large portion of his flesh melted away.

Harry grit his teeth, but a small whimper was the only sign of the scream that had been trying to escape. He needed to get close enough to grab hold of Quirrell, but this time Voldemort wasn't distracted by the stone. He couldn't even use advanced magic, as he didn't have any intention of giving any clues to a overly smart Voldemort that there was anything especially odd about him.

'Stand still and die like your parents boy!' Voldemort yelled, and Harry was unfortunate enough to be shocked enough to be hit by the red curse. He fell to the floor in pain, curling in on himself as he felt like hot knives dug into every joint, and his insides appearing to boil up from his insides.

The curse was released and Harry became aware of his surroundings again. A familiar high cold laugh resonating across the room.

'Do you remember killing them?' Harry's voice broke twice in the small sentence, but Voldemort seemed more than happy to answer.

'Of course I do. Weak children that they were. Neither of them even fought back. They died begging to survive. Just as you will have to do to live now. BEG!'

Harry shakily got to his feet, he could barely stand as tremors were racking his body. But he _had _to know, and his mind had latched on to something.

'They didn't fight with any magic? _None at all_?'

Harry had brushed off Voldemort's claims down in the chamber the first time-line, and had trusted what he saw around dementors after third year, but his mind was spinning.

Voldemort was giving him an odd look, but Harry ignored it.

'Did they have their wands?'

'Still worrying about mummy and daddy Potter?' Voldemort sneered.

Harry ignored him, taking a step closer. His odd behaviour was putting Voldemort off, and he needed just a moments distraction.

'Did they have any _wands_?'

'NO! THEY DIED LIKE FILTHY MUGGLES!'

Right then, three things happened all at once. Voldemort cast Crucio again, right as Harry threw himself at him. He probably wouldn't have made contact, except at that moment the door was blasted open and McGonagall, Flitwick and Dumbledore stood in the door.

McGonagall screamed as she saw the crucio hit Harry, but Harry was concentrating enough to ignore the first few seconds of pain, latching himself firmly around Quirrell's middle.

For the next few moments, all he knew was pain.

Pain of the crucio.

Pain of touching Voldemort.

Pain delivered down the link as Quirrell and Voldemort burned to nothing.

Harry felt the crucio drop, and a moment later became aware of someone pulling him off Quirrell and into a tight hug. He could hear two voices screaming, and only after a moment realised one voice was his own, and stopped. Quirrell screamed on.

His vision cleared with just enough time to see Quirrell die, and the dark misty void that was Voldemort come flying at and through him and the arms around him.

Dumbledore stood in the center of the room staring at Quirrell looking very, very pale. McGonagall was sitting on the floor near the door clutching her chest, and Harry suddenly became aware that the strong arms that were holding him were that of the tiny professor Flitwick.

'Voldemort.' Harry croaked out.

'Wh-What?' McGonagall spluttered, but Harry could tell she already knew.

'That was Voldemort. I was stunned in the entrance hall and brought up here. Tied to the chair. He tri- tried to kill me, but he had freed me, and I dodged. Then cr-…' Harry trailed off as tremours ran through his body.

'Pain.' He whispered. It wasn't even put on. With Voldemort gone he was coming down from the adrenalin high, and realised that he'd come a lot closer to death than the first time round, and that his small body was a lot less equipped to deal with a crucio than his fourth year boady had been (not that that had been nice either).

'I'm so sorry, my boy.' Dumbledore said, but Harry was seeing red. It didn't matter that he was secretly almost twenty-eight. It didn't matter that he could have fought, and probably won if he didn't hold back. It didn't matter that it happened like this because he had changed the time-line. Suddenly he was more furious that he had even been when he was told the prophecy.

Harry wrenched himself out of Flitwick's arms and stormed across the room dragging Dumbledore down to his level by the beard. He was so furious he didn't even hear McGonagall squeal in shock.

'Don't you _dare_ call me 'my boy' EVER AGAIN!' Harry yelled, taking advantage of Dumbledore's shock.

'YOU KNEW HE WAS HERE!'

Harry's accusation echoed around the room, and much to his pleasure, Dumbledore just closed his eyes and didn't reply. Ignoring the child attached to his beard.

'Albus?' said McGonagall.

Harry let go of Dumbledore's beard, and backed away. His body and mind were reeling, but he was determined to stay focused. Remembering he was meant to be eleven he let the tears he was holding back fall, and just stood staring across the room at Dumbledore.

'How did you know where I was?' Harry was slightly worried he had missed some tracking charms.

'The unforgivables alerted the wards.'

'Well I guess it's lucky he's so set on killing me then.' Harry said calmly, which had McGonagall gaping. Harry had left the perfect opening for Dumbledore to mention the prophecy, even though he knew he wouldn't. Even though he _was_ angry, there was a small part of him that was hoping the Dumbledore he thought he knew existed.

'I'm so sorry, my-… Mr. Potter.'

'Yes. So am I.' Harry found he meant it far more than he would have liked. 'Professor Flitwick, would you mind escorting me to the hospital wing.'

Harry turned to face the diminutive professor, and found him eyeing him with a calculating look more commonly known on his goblin counterpart's faces. Flitwick nodded quickly however, and grabbed him lightly by the arm leading him out without another word.

They walked in silence for two floors, but it was broken just before the hospital wing.

'You are taking this very well, Mr. Potter.'

'I'm not so sure about that. I feel like I'm going to throw up.'

Flitwick remained calm for a long moment, and then spoke again, his voice much quieter, and soothing.

'I know you are a Slytherin Harry, and I imagine a much more Slytherin one than most see. Just… just be careful. Dumbledore and You-Know-Who are both very powerful wizards.'

'Thank you professor. But I very much doubt I will be able to avoid them.'

'It was him then?' Harry noticed a tinge of fear in the professor's voice.

'Yes. He was never truly gone. Not really.'

'How did you know?'

Harry considered lying. He considered acting clueless. He considered that Flitwick might actually be working for Dumbledore in more ways that teaching.

'I remember that Halloween Sir. I'm afraid I always have.' He settled on that for an answer, and thankfully didn't have to respond to the shocked sound Flitwick made, nor see the pity in his eyes. Madam Pomfrey emerged, and let of a small shriek as soon as she cast her regular diagnostic charms. Harry let himself be taken over by her care, and soon found himself with dreamless sleep in his system, fading to blackness.

His last thought, before he passed out; _I should have seen this coming I _knew_ I had an adventure was due_.


	17. Posting of next yr started!

I promised to let a few people know when yr 2 started being uploaded... it has :)


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